The Art of Being Bella
by vampskies
Summary: Bella, a spunky artist from Phoenix, is forced to live in Forks. Loner Edward is captivated by her and her art. As he falls deeper, he learns there are things he does not know about Bella--and that she may be in danger. AU/AH/Slightly OOC Adult Language
1. Red Rocks

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing! Not Twilight, Shakespeare, Greek Mythology, nor "We Shall Overcome."

**Thank you** to **inthestars** for betaing and being generally awesome!

**A/N:** This started out as a crackfic which quickly became it's own entity. PLEASE REVIEW.

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"Bella?" Renée's voice made a muffled vibration through the bathroom door as she shuffled her feet and pressed her face more closely into the threshold--as if that would somehow amplify her voice or unlock the knob.

"Honey? Sweetheart? Is--is everything oh-kaaay?" She sputtered, drawing out the last word with a concerned whine.

Inside the bathroom, I curled into the rounded corner of the empty bathtub, hugging my knobby knees to my chest.

_Why? Why? Why do bad things always seem to happen to me just when I think that my luck has changed?_

Renée's voice sounded further away when she spoke next. "Listen, Bella. I don't know what's wrong, and I cannot help you from the other side of the bathroom door!" She huffed, irritation crowding out the worry from her voice.

"MOM... I'm..._ fine._" I knew it would not appease Renée, but I needed to buy more time.

_Can't she tell that I don't want to talk right now? That I don't want to taint her oh-so-great-news about Phil, and Florida, and Happiness with my own awful, horrible, wretched news?_

I whimpered into my jeans, a shudder coming from my lungs instead of the pouting and self-indulgent exhalation that I had intended.

"Bella!" Renée's voice echoed through the thin door, "I heard that! You are _not_ 'fine!'

If you don't let me in, so help me, I'll get Phil and have him take the door off its hinges!"

I gazed up at the peachy spackled walls of the bathroom, my eyes drifting to the narrow white tiles lining the upper edge of the paint, and then to the desert landscape mural surrounding the tiny window that I had painted last year, complete with red rock mesas and towering saguaros. The window was open a crack, and the hot Phoenix air seeped into my sanctuary. A drop of sweat trailed from my forehead, tickling a path down my eyelid and mixing with the swell of salty, stinging tears. I wiped away all of the unwanted wetness, annoyed when the tears only returned.

_School is out, on summer break, finally all the time in the world to draw and paint. Everything had been going so well... I thought, at least. Of course, I was wrong! Nothing ever goes that smoothly for me. Stupid Bella._

_Might as well concede defeat and face the troops._

A seemingly innocuous envelope from the faculty chairwoman at Phoenix's Art Academy, also known as "my second home," had abruptly changed everything. The letter within both broke my heart and terrified me. No more scholarship money meant no more school. Which meant back to North High. Which meant... _James. _I shuddered as I pulled myself out of the tub.

Opening the door, I launched myself into Renée's arms, suddenly grateful that my mom, my best friend, was around to give the comfort that until that moment I had not realized I desperately desired. As I tucked my head under her chin, she shushed my crying.

"Sweetie, tell me all about it. Please?"

I nodded, and Renée moved us to the sofa, clutching me to her chest as I proceeded to explain how everything had gone wrong.

---

_I can't sleep. I hate not being able to sleep when all I want to do is close my eyes and make the world go away. "To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub..."_

"No, I'm not suicidal, that one doesn't fit."_ However, I may have questionable sanity, seeing as I'm talking to myself about the--ugh. Stupid line, from stupid soliloquy, said by stupid Hamlet, written by stupid Shakespeare... stupid... everything. God, Bella, you are being so melodramatic!_

I grimaced and turned over to punch my pillow, but stopped mid-roll as I suddenly caught the low murmur of Renée's voice coming from somewhere outside my door.

_Phone? _I paused and listened carefully.

_No other voices. Phone. _

Ever curious, I quietly slipped out of bed... and promptly stubbed the little toe on my right foot against the solid oak nightstand, audibly gasping in pain.

_Fuckfuckfuckfuck! OWW. Don't talk! Don't talk! Shhhhhhh! _

_Be stealthy, dammit!_

I cringed and breathed deeply as the pain passed, and then moved cautiously toward the door. I gripped the handle tightly, rotated my wrist slowly, and pulled my door open an inch. Hunkering down on the floor, I cupped my ear toward the sound of Renée's voice.

"...yes, of course I know that—don't tell me how to be a mother, Charlie! You haven't been through half of it! Ugh... Yes—yes. I know. I know! She was too young, I know..."

_Ah. Right. She's talking about _me. _With _Charlie,_ of all people. 'Well he is your father,' an inner voice that sounded suspiciously like Renée chided. Not that he knows how to be that, but still. I know he cares. But what is this 'too young' business?_

I huffed indignantly, but stayed quiet and still.

"Really, Charlie? Oh, that would be—well, I'll have to talk to her of course, but, geez, that would be so great. Okay. Okay. Yes, I'll give you a call tomorrow. Thanks _so_ much. Okay, goodnight."

Renée hung the phone in the cradle next to the sofa and dropped her arms down into her lap, releasing a big sigh. Turning her head toward my door, she smiled tiredly.

"Bella," she sang, "you can come out now!"

_Dammit._

Renée's musical laughter sounded from around the corner. "You couldn't be surreptitious if your life depended on it!"

_There goes my lifelong dream of being an international undercover agent for the C.I.A.!_

Blushing and scowling, I lifted myself up from the carpet and skulked into the living room. "I don't know what you're talking about. I was just going to the bathroom." I lifted my nose into the air haughtily, trying (and utterly failing, I suspected) to convey innocence. I'm a horrible liar.

"And that wasn't you who almost woke the entire neighborhood with your huffing and puffing three minutes ago? Did you trip on something? You know you should just turn on the light, darkness doesn't help someone who normally trips over herself during the day--"

Annoyed and scowling again, I abruptly cut off Renée as I decided to confess my apparently inept attempt at nocturnal skullduggery.

"Fine, you're right, I stubbed my toe, I was listening, you caught me, end of story."

Renée raised an eyebrow and patted the cushion next to hers.

Flopping down, I raised my eyebrow in return.

Silence.

"Um... are you really going to make me _ask_?" I laughed, incredulous.

"No, no, no, sorry. I was just spacing out for a moment. Lost in my thoughts, you know."

"Yeah, I know. You."

"Hmph. Well, Bella, as you may have gathered, I was just talking to Charlie. He's invited you up to Forks—if you want to go, that is. No one is going to make you do anything of course; you're old enough to make your own choices."

"Oh, I'm _old enough_, am I?"

"Ah--you heard that." Renée faltered, but continued. "Sweetie, listen, he--Charlie--your dad--he just mentioned things from the past, nothing recent."

"Ah. So. He knows about...?"

"Yes hon, he knows about... James." She paused, knowing that I'm not particularly fond of the name. "No more than his poor mind can handle, mind you, but he knows." Suddenly wary of my response, Renée was on the defensive. "I just thought--it would be better to tell him, you know? He has a right, as your father--."

"Yeah, mom. It's okay." _Was it? Yeah, I guess so. It didn't make much of a difference now._

"Bella honey, listen. You don't have to go. It's okay. I'm sure Charlie would love to see you, but he can always wait until the end of summer for your California trip. I just thought that maybe you'd like to go, considering that Phil and I are going to be in Jacksonville, probably in a hotel for a while. You know."

Renée furrowed her brow, but then looked hesitantly hopeful as she waited for my response.

"Yeah, okay. It's just for the summer, right?"

No answer. _That's not good. Renée? Mom? Hello? Yah in there? I love you, but sometimes..._

"Well, here's the thing, Bella, I was thinking," Renée paused, and then gushed the rest of her thoughts, "that maybe you might want to stay there for the next year?" She shuffled her hands in her lap, as my eyes widened comically.

_She's got to be kidding._

Still nervous, she continued. "I spoke to whatshername in the business office at the Arts Academy, and she said that they really don't have the money to give you another year--I mean, that was an amazing scholarship, and the school costs a fortune; you know if I could send you there with my own money, I would, sweetie, right? Of course you do. It's just that--I think maybe you should... _not_ go back to North, and we already tried to get you redistricted, but that was _impossible_ because the schools are so full, and I have no idea what's going to happen with Phil and Florida, and I think maybe you should have a little bit more stability than that, honey."

_Forks. As in Forks, Washington. Also known as 'the Boondocks,' 'the Boonies,' 'Hicksville,' and 'the Sticks.' 'The Styx' is more appropriate. Forks equals death. Just call me 'Persephone' and launch me into my own Greek myth. Forks? Mom, really? I mean, summer is one thing, but a whole friggin year? I'll lose my mind! Granted, 'Persephone' was only in the Underworld three-quarters of the year... and that would make Renée 'Demeter,' except that she has the blackest thumb in the world, so that doesn't work. Okay, on second thought, never mind. I've clearly already lost it._

"Uh. Well. I'll think about it, okay?" _Riiiiiight._

"Oh good, Bella, thank you! Well, I'll call Charlie tomorrow to let him know that you'll be coming for the summer--he'll be thrilled to see you."

"Yeah mom." My mind was whirring with too much noise, and exhaustion was creeping in on my eyes. It had been a long, emotional day. "I'm gonna go to bed I think, okay?"

"Of course, sweetie, get some sleep. I'll see what I can do about getting your flight booked."

Back from my failed espionage mission, I crawled under the covers of my comfy, familiar bed in my cozy room. Which I was really going to miss. Profoundly. I laid there, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars patterned abstractly on my ceiling, wondering if Charlie would let me paint the house like Renée had allowed. Probably not. I wasn't sure if I would be able to sleep at all, when I slowly drifted away on thoughts of planes, paint, and a sense of groundlessness having nothing to do with flying that left me feeling uneasy, even in my unconscious and restless dreams.

---

When the light filtered through the pale curtains hanging from my windows, I rolled over and covered my face. When my alarm went off, letting me know that if I did not get up, I'd be annoyed with myself, I slapped it upside the head and rolled over again.

I did not want to get up. A small, out-of-tune voice in my head began singing:

"_We shall not, we shall not be moved_

_We shall not, we shall not be moved_

_Just like a tree that's standing by the water_

_We shall not be moved."_

_Too late. Brain's strong with civil rights-era folk tunes. No more sleeping in for you!_

Ugh. I just wanted my brain to shut up. I could feel the grogginess settling behind my eyes, and my head felt like it weighed twenty-five pounds. My mouth was dry and pasty. To someone else, this might be a hangover. To me, it was normal--for a morning after a crying jag.

_I hate crying._

Resigned to my fate amongst the living, I dragged myself out of bed and through the door to the bathroom. Renée was sitting at the dining room table, papers strewn all across the mottled wood surface, calculator in hand.

_How does she do it? She goes to bed after me, wakes up before me, and still manages to be normal. I do not get it. I think I must have missed this particular gene._

Renée looked up, coffee in hand, and smirked knowingly at my walking corpse.

_I hate morning people._

After a shower, a tiny breakfast, and several glasses of water to re-hydrate myself from my previous day's 'water loss,' I began to feel normal. For me. _Normal is overrated._ Memories of yesterday had been filtering into my brain all morning, and it was not pleasant; however, I had gained clarity in my sleep. The letter... the pit of anxiety in my stomach from imagining attending North again... avoiding James--and how impossible that would be once he discovered my return; anyone would have been frazzled in my situation, I reasoned.

I was sad enough that I would lose the safe haven that I had developed for myself over the last year at the Arts Academy, "officially" called Phoenix Arts Academy and Secondary Training, (PAAST). The administration always encouraged the use of the name "the Arts Academy," but most of the students affectionately referred to it as "Paste", and they clearly appreciated the artistic implication. The past year had essentially been art therapy.

But the gruesome prospect of losing my haven, _and_ being forced into James' company again? It was as if everything that I had gained had been stolen, and I could not help but be... _angry_... about it.

I took out my brushes and centered my easel in the brightest spot of my room. I yanked out my box of oils and bottle of turpentine, and went to work. _This is how I vent_. _Some people throw fits. Some throw fists. Some eat. Some run. _

_I paint._

Charlie had no artistic talent, latent or otherwise, but Renée had always had an eye for images and colors. She and I both had always experienced the world through vivid pictures, and consequently there had always been an ease of communication between us. There were times when she would say "Bella" and wave her arms in the air, and I would know _precisely _what she needed. She said it was because I paid attention to her. I always thought that we always had a special link, but she was probably right.

I let the sticky colors on my multitude of brush bristles wash over me and drown out my internal monologue. I had been working on this particular painting since Renée, Phil, and I had visited the Boyce Thompson Arboretum State Park a few weeks ago. I had sketched and taken a few pictures, but neither medium was comparable to images that I held in my head. The colors of the desert flowers were stunning. The fiery reds, oranges, yellows, pinks, and purples of petals and the dusty green agave left an indelible portrait in my mind. I would undoubtedly be taking this with me to Forks.

The next days came and went similarly. I slept, ate, drank, showered, and painted, moving on to a new landscape. Phil came over; Renée bought my plane ticket. She said it was the least that she could do given that she wasn't going to see me for a while. I sniffled quietly at the thought of leaving her for an extended period, but I didn't let her know. I had been avoiding packing my things, content to live in my bubble for just a few days more.

Then Renée came along and popped it.

"Bella, honey?" she queried as she peered into my room.

"Yesh ma?" I tried to speak with a paintbrush gripped between my molars like I were an eccentric tango dancer, dancing with my paints... alone. '_Stop being so morose,'_ I told myself. I was sure that I had paint all over my face. Oil is a bitch to remove, but the idea of my messy appearance cheered me. Artists love messes.

"Honey, have you started packing? You leave in two days." I glanced up at her; Renée now stood squarely in the doorway, her posture erect, but her head cocked slightly to the side. She looked overly concerned.

I removed the paintbrush from my teeth. "Uh... no, not really. But I have a list." _A mental list._

"Well, I don't want to pressure you, but... if I were you, I'd get a move on."

I'd been so immersed in my landscapes and colors for the past several days that I had managed to forget about James. Somehow thinking of Forks and Charlie and leaving... _and that weird idea of me staying in Forks for a year_... got me thinking about him again. _Maybe, just maybe it won't be as horrendous as I'm predicting! Maybe Forks will be okay this time. At the very least, I'll be far, far away from the person I'd like to avoid. And it's not like Charlie is going to bother me too much._

I begrudgingly wrote out my list that evening, and began packing my belongings, saving my myriad art supplies for last. I was almost out of gesso canvas primer and carnelian, but for once, I did not have money to spare for paint—I was saving for a car. I realized that I would need to find a new art store, doubting the possibility that one had cropped up in Forks during my several-year absence. _A girl can dream, right? Ha. Fat chance._

At the airport, I gave Renée a final hug goodbye, and assured her that I wanted to see Charlie, which was true, for once. '_I'm not an ungrateful daughter,'_ I mentally protested with the disapproving Renée voice in my head.

The jumbo jet flew directly over the grand canyon, which was stunning, but I fell asleep soon after. We arrived at Sea-Tac nearly four hours later, and I boarded what looked like an experimental aircraft from the 1920s for a harrowing hour-long flight to Port Angeles. I truly _was_ grateful to see Charlie when we landed.

The drive in the Chief's Police cruiser was quiet, with the exception of Charlie's occasional attempts at conversation. I should have felt badly; I wasn't making it any easier for him. He and I had never been good communicators with each other.

"So, err, Bells." Charlie stiffly turned his head in my direction. "You look good."

"Thanks, dad."

_Silence._

"You still painting?" He asked, his eyes, head, and body remaining straight ahead.

"Yeah, dad."

_Silence._

"There's a truck for sale in La Push." Charlie nervously tapped his index fingers against the wheel, and continued to focus intently on the road.

_Now we're talking, old man._

"Oh, yeah? How much?"

"Well," he stammered, "well, it's sort of free." Some radar or computer in his fully equipped cruiser loudly beeped, making me jolt in my seat, and a fuzzy transmission came through. Charlie quickly turned the switch down, and the static faded.

_Oh. Free. I don't know enough about cars for that to be very good. _ I tried to think of a way to brace Charlie for the impending disappointment.

Charlie glanced quickly at me and saw my pained grimace and doubting eyes.

He quickly sought to fix his apparent mistake. "What I mean is, Bells, I already bought it. I know you're not too big on that, but... I thought you might like it." I turned fully toward him, and took in his afflicted visage. _Only us Swans are so uncomfortably awkward about giving and receiving gifts. Geez._

I was stunned. "Wow, dad! That's awesome! Umm... it runs okay?" I asked him, hopefully making my point.

"Bel-la," he scolded, "I wouldn't put you in a vehicle that wasn't safe! Who do you take me for? Billy—you remember Billy Black, right?" I nodded, vaguely making up a face out of various features. I didn't remember. "Well, Billy and his son Jake rebuilt it—the engine is great, and it doesn't drive too fast." He said with a pleased grin.

_Stupid meddling Chief of Police. _There would be no drag racing in Forks, that's for sure. _Not that I would._

Then I realized—_wow—that was quite a few words, Charlie. Good job._

As we pulled into Charlie's gravel drive, I realized that I hadn't yet thanked him for the truck. Feeling like an ass, as we climbed out of the cruiser and made our way to grab my bags and large trunk of art supplies, I caught Charlie's eye and told him how much I appreciated his thoughtfulness.

My dad, sweet gentleman that he is, blushed.

He recovered quickly, though. As he awkwardly held out his arms to me in what I realized was a request for a hug, he quietly, and with more genuine emotion than I had ever heard him speak, murmured, "Welcome home, Bells." I returned his hug, and a real smile lit my face.

_He's not Renée. But maybe he'll do. _

_Maybe this summer won't suck after all._

_

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**Please Review! :)**  
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	2. Hello, Forks

**Disclaimer: These are SMeyer's puppets and her stage; I merely play with the strings. **

**Author's Note: A big HUGE Thank you to everyone who reviewed and added this story to their favorites and story alerts! I love you all. **

**Thank you to my beta, inthestars, for helping me work through bumps in this chapter--if you aren't already reading her fic "An Unfortunate Look Into Bella's Lovesick Psyche", do it!  
**

**FYI: (To keep me accountable for my grandiose plans) I'm making some of Bella's art for this fic! I'll be putting links in my profile when I get things finished and uploaded. Keep an eye out for it!**

**Please Review! :)  
**

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June is a month that is supposed to be sunny, blazingly hot, and very dry.

_What is this crap?_

I was staring out my little dirty window, the downpour dragging my mood with it. Somewhere in the rivulets and streams of water coursing down the craggy pavement was my happy day, whisked away.

_Pfft. Bella, seriously girl, you've gotta toughen up. _

_It's just rain. _

_It's just rain._

_I miss Phoenix._

I spent my first few days in Forks in the house. The stupid man on the radio weather forecast said something along the lines of "100% chance of precipitation and a high of 64 degrees, today, folks. Be careful driving, and remember to use your low beams in the fog." With a sulking and angry flick of my finger, I shut radio-man up.

_Meteorologists never know what they're talking about._

But radio-man had been right, and the rain poured down. I had pulled my art trunk open, set up my easel, and put away the few clothes I brought with me, but I wasn't quite sure what to do with myself, and my art muse was... sad? Sulking? I was ambivalent about my room, Charlie's house, and being stuck in Forks. I was apathetically glum. Renée would call me "mopey" if she were here.

_  
I miss Renée._

I'd always been a little bit melancholic, and there was a year not too long ago where I had been full-out depressed. My muse had been gone, then, too. I had gotten her back when I received my scholarship for the Arts Academy and my life had turned around.

Now? No muse. Or... maybe she was just hiding away somewhere. Maybe I had to find her? I shifted on the edge of my bed, making another cursory glance toward the window. Still wet.

_  
Time to stop thinking._

Downstairs, Charlie was flipping through the sixty channels on his seventeen-inch ancient behemoth of a TV. He stopped on ESPN, and tossed the remote toward where his white-socked feet were resting on the solid coffee table. I was still trying to get used to being around him. So quiet, so solitary, his habits were unselfconscious from years of living alone. The floorboard creaked as I shifted my weight at the bottom of the stairs, and Charlie's head snapped toward me.

"Oh! Hey there, Bells, I didn't hear you come down!" He gave me a quick smile. "Err... is there anything I can do for you?"

Charlie had been trying to accommodate me to make me feel welcome, and it had helped to know that he wanted me around... but it still felt like overkill.

_  
It's going to take a while for this to be normal._

"No, I'm okay, dad. I'm just going to get something to eat."

There wasn't much in the fridge: beer, a few condiments, a paper bag of fried fish, and some dodgy-looking milk. The cabinets weren't much better.

"Um, hey, Charl--I mean, dad?" I asked tentatively as I walked into his line of sight, "I was wondering if you'd mind funding a trip to the grocery store. I'm pretty used to cooking my own meals, you know."

"No problem! Whatever you need! Want me to drive you?"

Ah. Yes. This was an issue. _No, not really, Charlie. I'm not a big fan of being taxied by cops._

"Um, well--," I hedged, "when do you think I could get the truck?"

Charlie's face lit up with excitement. "Oh! I forgot to tell you! Billy will be bringing it over this afternoon--I hope you don't mind if he stays for a while, we were going to watch the game this evening. He usually brings dinner."

I could kiss the man. "Thanks so much, dad--really, I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."

I was positively antsy with excitement for a mode of transportation that wasn't A) The Police, or B) Walking in the rain.

I needed to get out of the house, explore whatever there was to explore, and to get out of Forks... even if just for a little bit.

I was up in my room with my headphones on to drown out the sound of the splattering rain, when I heard a nearing roar coming from down the road.

_  
What the?_

Ripping off my headphones, I jumped to the window and saw a huge rusty red truck making its way... toward Charlie's house, I realized. _Is that--is that it? That big, rusty, old thing? I don't know what Charlie was thinking, because... _it's perfect. The orange-red of the obviously faded and peeling paint reminded me of _home_. The color tugged on my heart; it was a color of red rocks and deserts and Phoenix.

I had been trying not to think too much about being homesick, but suddenly there were tears in my eyes and I missed my _real_ room, and my mom, and even Phil, who wasn't such a bad guy. I missed the heat and the sun--_Oh, the Sun!_ I missed the way that it came through my south-facing window and lit up my easel, and all I ever had to do was turn it to face the other way to get natural light on my art all day long. I missed feeling warm.

Tears came, and I stood in the window feeling the pinprick of a draft through the cracks. In my mind, I was seeing Phoenix and the colors that I wanted to see with my eyes. My fingers were running quietly down the peeling white paint around the windowpanes, and I jolted as they touched the cool glass.

"Bella!" Charlie shouted from the bottom of the stairs. "Billy's here! Come down and take a look!"

I wiped my face and glanced quickly in the mirror, relieved to see that my skin wasn't splotchy. _If he doesn't look too closely, he'll never know._

I pulled on my brown hoodie and bolted downstairs and out the front door, almost falling over when I ran into what appeared to be a wall at the base of the steps.

"Oooofff! Oh, sorry, sorry!"

"Are you okay?" The wall asked me.

"Yeah, fine, just clumsy." I laughed at myself, a faint blush coloring my cheeks.

The wall was roughly my age, maybe younger. He looked vaguely familiar... but it had been so long since I'd spent time in Forks that I knew I had no chance of recognizing him.

He flashed a brilliant smile at my remark, and stuck out his hand. "I'm Jake--you probably don't remember me, but we went fishing together once or twice a while back."

Vague pictures filtered into my brain, none of them presenting themselves as a real thread to a memory.

I smiled back, trying to be friendly and polite, and tentatively shook his hand. "Bella. And you're right, I don't remember, sorry."

He shrugged and gave a half-smile, turning toward where Charlie stood near Billy and next to the Big Red Truck.

"Jacob!" Billy said with his gravelly voice, "Let Bella see the truck, you're in her way!"

I snorted, and Jake turned to glance back and laugh with me.

The closer that I got to the truck, the wider my smile grew. Hiding my obvious pleasure was futile, and Charlie looked incredibly pleased with my reaction.

I walked around the truck and took in all of its rusty glory. _Mine._

I turned to where the three of them stood, watching me. Under other circumstances, I would have been embarrassed and self-conscious about their stares, but I was so caught in the thrall of _my truck_ that they didn't faze me.

I grinned. "It's perfect! Thank you so much."

Charlie's face was ecstatic, and Billy and Jake both looked pleased.

Jake took a step forward and spoke, "My dad and I did a lot of work on it, so it should be fine--but if you need anything, let me know."

_  
Let _me _know._

"I'll be sure to give you guys a call if I do," I responded, hoping that he would catch the subtle steering of my words and that he wouldn't take it too personally.

Jake's smile fell a fraction, but he didn't seem too upset.

_  
Good. That is the last thing that I'm looking for._

The gravel under Charlie's feet crunched, and he spoke up, a sly smirk on his face. "So..." he dragged out, "Billy... I'm a little hungry... you want to go inside to find something to eat?"

Billy threw his head back into guffawing laughter. "Hahahahahah! Charlie, you know as well as I that there is nothing worth eating in your kitchen. Of course I brought dinner." Billy patted the bag in his lap. "As soon as you wheel me in, you can have it!" Charlie grabbed the back of Billy's chair with gusto, and we all went inside.

Next morning, a wad of cash was sitting on the kitchen counter alongside a napkin with a few words scrawled, saying, "Get anything you need."

_  
Anything? Surely not anything, Charlie._

The devilish part of me smiled wickedly, imagining all of the paint and new brushes and canvas that I could buy with that money. Then my stomach growled, interrupting my reverie. 

_Food._

I headed out the door with the money stuffed into my jeans pocket, truck keys jingling happily in my hand. There was a nervous thrum inside of me--I couldn't _wait_ to get behind the wheel of my truck.

When it roared to life, the sound filled me with glee, and I made my way out to the one grocery store in Forks.

Later that day, kitchen finally stocked, I sat in my room eying my paint. What to do? My muse was tickling the edge of my brain. She liked the truck, too, apparently. But something was off. My favored paint medium for the past year had been oil, with acrylic in second place. Instead, I pulled out my pencils, charcoal, and pad of sketching paper, and glanced at the only slightly overcast sky, deciding to head outside.

With my back against the smooth bark of the maple tree out in front of Charlie's house, I sat in thought as my pencil wandered around the page. I still felt like I was pushing for something that wasn't coming naturally, and I disliked it. Suddenly, my mind made up, I got up and made my way to the other side of the tree. Back again against the bark, my gaze settled onto my rusty red truck, and inspiration coursed through me like a breath of clean, oxygen-rich air.

Mesas jutting from the dusty ground.

Scrubby brush littering the pattern of cacti.

The occasional skittish horned lizard.

The dancing shadows opposite the constant stream of sunlight.

Desert wildflowers.

I imagined myself in this landscape, the sky open wide above, freeing me. I felt peaceful as I sketched out the land and sky that I was missing, defining its features in the grey, black, and rusty brown of my pencils. No more color than that, but it was a start.

Charlie was working late that evening, and I was ensconced in my copy of _Bulfinch's Mythology_ when the phone rang loudly in my ear.

I eyed it speculatively, wishing that Charlie had Caller ID. Taking the plunge, I answered.

"Hello?"

"Uh, hey, Bella?"

I was surprised to hear my name. "Uh, yeah... is this--?" not completing my question.

"Sorry, it's Jake." He fumbled.

"Oh! Hi, Jake, what's up?"

"Hey, so, I was wondering if maybe you'd like to come down to La Push sometime and hang out."

Did I? I wasn't sure. I didn't want to lead him on or anything, but I wouldn't mind a little bit more company. _I could use a friend_, I decided.

"Um, sure, that would be cool."

"Awesome! What about tomorrow?"

"Okay... does early afternoon sound good?"

"That's great! I'm not really morning person." I smirked at his remark.

"Me neither."

Jake gave me directions to his house, telling me that we could go down to the beach if the weather wasn't too rotten. His enthusiasm worried me a little bit, but I decided that I was being overly cautious. Renée's voice returned in my head. _It wouldn't hurt to hang out with people, you know. You could use more friends! _

_  
God, I miss you._

The next morning I knew the weather without looking out my window or listening to radio-man. It was pouring, and not exactly a nice day for a dry stroll on the beach.

_Ugh._

I was surprised to feel a little bit disappointed.

Around noon the phone rang--_It's probably Jake, canceling our plans, _I thought glumly. Contrary to my prediction, he sounded exuberant and happy, as if he were tapping into his own secret sun and radiating it outward. I experienced a moment of terror when I wondered if he was going to make me walk in the rain.

"Bella! Hey, so it's a mess out, but I was thinking, do you want to go down to Moonlighter's Café?"

"Is that in La Push?"

"I wish! It's in Forks!"

"There's a _café_ in _Forks_?" I blurted, astounded and excited. _Incredible._

"Yeah, it's down next to Newton's, the outdoor supply place. I take it you've never been? It's an internet café, free WIFI, computers, and all that. Plus they have killer cookies!"

"I'm in! Wanna meet me down there?"

"Sure--it'll take me about twenty minutes, so I'll see you then?"

"Great!"

_  
Cookies. Internet. Yum._

Before I headed out the door, I grabbed my sketchpad and pencils. _You never know!_

When I pulled into the small parking lot, I saw a flurry of activity in front of the adjacent shop. _Ah. Local hotspot. Of course, I should have known better. _I had never been one to seek out the company of many people--especially strangers. _I'll just... wait here. He shouldn't be too long._

When a beaten-up looking black sedan pulled into the lot and Jake hopped out the passenger side door, I had been in my car for a good fifteen minutes. I had been drawing for ten, so it hadn't been too bad. Still. I felt foolish.

I watched as Jake ran up to the window of my truck, pleading an apology with his eyes.

_  
Oh, fine. I forgive you.. but do it again, and you'll be singing with the Castrati, mister!_

I wrenched the old, heavy door open, and Jake immediately began giving an excuse about rides, drivers' licenses, not thinking and... _Whatever, it doesn't really matter._

"Jake--don't worry too much, really. I spent the time drawing."

"Aw, nice, you're an artist, too?"

"Are you an artist?" I questioned him, and watched as his face fell.

"Oh--no. I wish!" he said with a grin. "I mean--what I meant was," he stumbled, "that you're an artist on top of being really cool." His voice tapered off at the end and he looked bashful about his confession, but he continued. "I'm no artist--I still draw like a three-year-old! I bet you're really good!"

_  
All of this admiration is going to kill me, kid._

"Ah, well, I'm okay, not great or anything," I claimed modestly.

"Can I see your drawings?" Jake asked as we walked through the rain toward the busy café.

"Umm," I sighed as I thought whether I really wanted to share so much with him. "Maybe. But only a few."

_  
Way to stand your ground, there, girl. _

I told that nagging voice in my brain to shut up with a bribe of the coming cookies.

Once we were past the doors, I could see that the café was somewhat narrow and long; there was a long polished counter on the right side, behind which two kids about my age were taking and filling orders. Big, colorful overstuffed armchairs circled small coffee tables in the front of the café, and scattered rows of tables were in the back. Computers and stools lined the wall opposite the counter. The place was packed.

_  
I think that the entire population of Forks is in here!_

We made our way through the throng of teens, and Jake scouted out a table while I went up to order. I stood in line behind a girl with hugely curly hair, and had to take a small step back to avoid becoming a casualty. I was acutely aware that almost everyone inside the café was eyeing me speculatively, and it made me want to shrink into myself.

_  
If I could only just disappear..._

Never having been a fan of coffee, I ordered a green tea and a massive macadamia nut chocolate cookie--I could already feel the sugar rush coming on.

At the table, I took the opportunity to look around the room at all the faces, trying to avoid those that were looking back at me as I waited for Jake to return with our orders. When I realized that I was still attracting too much attention to successfully people-watch, I looked down at my hands instead.

Jake returned to the table with a tray, and I grabbed my hot beverage from him. The strong bitter scent of coffee filled my nostrils, and I jerked away from the cup in my hands.

"Hey, Jake, this one must be yours," I said as I passed it back to him.

He eyed the cup, confused. "Um... no, I got a frozen mocha latte with whipped cream."

"Oh. I guess they made a mistake. I'll be right back."

I rose from my seat with the coffee in hand, and went to the counter. A kind-looking girl with dark brown hair and a name-tag that read "Angela" paused and asked if she could help me.

"Um, yes, hi, I think my order must have been mixed up, I wanted green tea but got coffee," I explained, gesturing with the steaming cup in my hand.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, I'll fix it right away," she apologized, taking the coffee. "We've been so swamped today since Eric called in sick," she explained.

"No problem."

Suddenly the girl with the big hair came up beside me, slid her drink down the counter, and began screeching like a banshee.

"What," she yelled emphatically, volume and pitch of her voice rising with every word, "is... this... green... _shit_?! I wanted coffee, not lawn clippings, you idiots!"

I looked at Angela, who stood frozen with my drink still in her hand, obviously uncomfortable and embarrassed.

_  
It's just coffee, Frizzilocks! _I wanted to yell back.

I hated to make cruel jokes about anyone's appearance, as my pale skin had always been the butt of every punch line back in Phoenix. I was the resident "albino" in a sea of tanned sun-lovers. But, damn, as she continued to bellow, whine, and complain, I decided that Frizzilocks had it coming.

Before I could turn to defend Angela, something happened that derailed the entire conflict. Several impeccably dressed people gracefully walked through the door--five people, four of whom were coupled up, arm in arm. The odd man out was the last one through the door.

Suddenly Frizzilocks stopped screeching... and began... crooning?

"Edward! Oh it's so good to see you! I've missed your gorgeous face since school got out, why haven't you called meeeeeeeee?" she whined.

My gaze followed hers, and I did a double take when I got a good look at this "_Edward."_ I surprised myself when a surge of interest tightened in my stomach. My face flushed as my eyes unapologetically roved up his body. His hands were lazily perched in the pockets of his black pants, and he stood casually, conveying a confidence of which I was jealous.

I think my jaw may have dropped when I looked up to his face.

_  
Perfect. _

_So beautiful. _

He truly was _beautiful_, there was no other way to describe properly the way his features fit together, the way his square jaw and straight nose conveyed a strength and masculinity that made me feel almost lightheaded. _And his hair._ Messy and sexy bronze locks completed his devilish look and snared me in his trap.

_  
You caught me._

I think I may have been staring.

He looked around the room speculatively, trying to ignore Frizzilocks.

"Edward!" She began half-crooning, half-whining again. "Over here! You should come sit with me! My table is over there," she gesticulated.

I was watching "Edward" carefully, seeing how his brow furrowed and shadows appeared in his eyes as he tried to look anywhere but where this annoying girl was--and consequently, where I was also standing.

_  
What are you doing in Forks, Mister?_

His mind apparently made up, he looked toward where we were standing and simply acknowledged, "Jessica."

As he turned to follow his companions, his eyes briefly rested on me, and I had to violently tear my gaze away from him to save myself from humiliation. I forced myself to look toward Angela, who was holding my tea and passing it in my direction.

"Thanks for not making a big deal about the mix-up!" she said.

"Oh, no problem," I murmured.

I looked back toward Frizzilocks--"Jessica," I corrected myself, and saw that yes, she was still trying to talk to "Edward," who was doing everything in his power to push her away without using physical force.

_  
Take a hint, girl, he's not into you._

Suddenly I remembered Jacob back in the corner, and I snapped myself back to reality.

_  
You can be such an ass, Bella._

Jake had almost finished his huge diabetic-coma-drink when I returned to him, and I saw that he was carefully leafing through my sketchbook. My first reaction was fury, but I still felt guilty for leaving him alone for so long, so I decided before I began to rant that we were even.

_  
For now._

_Nosy bastard._

He looked at me with alarm, realizing that I had caught him. "Hey Bella, sorry, you were gone for so long--I was just curious, and I thought because you said--"

I let him feel bad for a moment before cutting him off. "No worries, Jake, really. I'm sorry it took so long."

"You're not mad I looked at your book?" He asked with disbelief.

"Well..." _Should I lie?_ There was something about Jake that made me want to be honest. "Okay, I'm a little peeved, but I'll get over it. Wait for me, next time, okay?"

"There's gonna be a next time?" Jake pounced on my words with excitement.

"Ha. I'm sure I'll see plenty more of you this summer, given that our dads are all buddy-buddy."

"Yeah, they have a good time. You should have been there one time Charlie came over for Super Bowl Sunday and almost burned our house down..." and with that, Jake launched into telling stories about our dads, and I sat and listened, happy to get to know Jake, enjoying his storytelling, and loving hearing about Charlie. I did my best to stay focused on him, happy that he was doing most of the talking. I couldn't help it that my mind kept wandering over to the sexy image of Edward, and I tried not to be too obvious when I swept the room for him. If Jake noticed anything, he didn't let it show.

An hour or three later, Jake had to catch a ride with Leah, this girl from La Push, so we said our goodbyes with a promise to hang out again soon. He said that it wasn't supposed to be as soggy on Thursday, so maybe we could check out the tide pools. I had made it clear to him that I wasn't really looking for a relationship, but that I really wanted his friendship. He took it all in stride with a happy smile, and I admired his sunny nature.

I decided to stick around the café a little longer to use the internet at one of the available computers. When I checked my email, I saw that Renée had written to me about 50 times over the past several days, "just checking in," she said.

_  
Obsess, much?_

I wrote back to her, telling her that Forks was... okay. Not quite dismal, but not exactly my favorite cup of tea, either. The possibility of sexy-man-sightings made the idea of living here slightly more tolerable, but I omitted that last part in favor of keeping my sanity and keeping my very few secrets secret.

I puttered around various websites for awhile, when I realized how late it was, and that Charlie would be coming home soon.

_  
Best not keep the old man wondering. _

Although I was sure he'd hear it from Billy, I didn't really want to tell him about hanging out with Jake... I had this sinking suspicion that Charlie would take it the wrong way, and that he would encourage it.

_  
Do. Not. Want._

I gathered my things up, and made for the door, when I saw him again. And he was looking at me. _Directly_ at me. As I returned his gaze, I discovered the startlingly bright jade hue of his eyes, which only further captivated me. It was as exciting as it was unnerving, and my mouth went dry as I kept his gaze for too long.

I had stopped walking toward the door, but the world was moving and spinning around me, and I was stuck in a fog. If someone had asked what my name was at that moment, I wouldn't have been able to answer them. All I could think was _Edward _and how green had never been more exciting to me before.

He was still looking at me--and I was still stuck in his gaze, my breath coming in short pants. Suddenly he looked as though he might say something--and I did the only logical thing that I could--I bolted out the door, ran to my truck, roared the engine to life, and sped out of there as fast as physically possible.

I was absolutely terrified.


	3. No Man is an Island

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything. It's so very sad.**

**Warnings: Sexual themes and brief mention of underage drinking.  
**

****READER CHALLENGE** **

**Thank you lvk1978 for naming chapter three!  
**

_**I love you guys, so I baked cookies for you in the form of *GASP* is it? Is it?! YES! It's Edward's POV. **_

_**Thank you to everyone who is reading and reviewing! Reviews really are love, and they make me ridiculously happy.**_

**

* * *

Edward**

I was content. I was content with my life, summer, and myself. Neither jubilantly happy nor afflicted with unnecessary misery, I found peace in my own company and in the omnipresent greenery that surrounded my escapades into the forest.

Finally released from the numbing clutches of Forks High School for the summer, I intended to use my time well. I planned to compose new pieces, master a few old ones, hike through the woods, and sleep under the stars. I sought respite from the melodrama of teenage angst. The school year surrounded me with nothing but inane conversation, giggling children, and highly unwanted advances. I wanted, needed, and deserved some solitude. I existed as my own fortress of pleasant solitude, surrounded by the green of Forks.

The words of Simon and Garfunkel piped into my consciousness from my iPod.

_  
I have my books  
And my poetry to protect me;  
I am shielded in my armor,  
Hiding in my room, safe within my womb.  
I touch no one and no one touches me.  
I am a rock,  
I am an island._

_How apropos, _I thought, chuckling aloud to myself. _I am an island._

This of course explained how and why my overzealous sister was quickly roping me into a social outing.

Alice bounded toward me gracefully and viciously ripped the thin cords of my headphones from my ears.

"I _know_ you're thinking that this is going to end poorly, but I _promise_ that you will not regret it." Alice's voice tinkled merrily, but firmly. "You're _going,_ Edward."

"Alice." I gritted my teeth together and planted my feet more firmly into the floor of my room.

She turned with a smirk and quickly disappeared down the hall, no doubt returning to prepare for the afternoon event.

She knew she would get her way eventually, but that did not require that I make the process easy.

"Please explain again how this will be enjoyable?" I shouted to her, a scowl clearly written into my words.

Alice popped her head around the corner with a devious grin on her face. "Well, let's see," she paused, crossing her arms and tapping her lips as she pretended to concentrate.

"First, Jazz will ogle me in my new red mini, and I'll have to hold his hands behind his back to make sure he behaves himself. Emmett will most likely tease you mercilessly for actually getting out and being social, and then Rose will--"

"For me, Alice! Enjoyable for me!"

"Oh, I know." She rolled her eyes. "You know I know. Just come, Edward; it will make me happy."

I grumbled unintelligibly.

"You can be such a crotchety old man!" she huffed, "We're _all _going, and that includes _you!_ Bes-i-des," she began singing, "I know that you want one of those mouth-wateringly delicious, flaky, buttery crois-sa-ants!"

_Not fair! _She knew I was helpless to resist the siren call of a good croissant. And, damn it, these were _excellent_. Forks finally got something right.

"_Fine_," I growled out, "I'll come."

I heard Alice squeal excitedly in response.

"BUT--" I continued emphatically, "Alice, I _swear_ on all that may or may not be holy in this world, if you let Jessica Stanley, Lauren Mallory, or Mike Newton _anywhere_ near me, I will return home more quickly than you can possibly conceive."

"Oh, don't be silly. You'll stick it out for the croissants."

I knew she was right, but petulantly refused to admit it.

The concept of this outing would not have been so ridiculously painful prior to this year, I supposed. Since September, Jessica, Lauren, and Mike had each been trying their 'best' to get into my pants.

I thought that I had made it clear that _I was not interested in them._

Actually, not interested in anyone in Forks was more accurate. I regrettably had myself to blame for the attention that I received from the trio. One meaningless drunken kiss with one insipid drunken Jessica Stanley in a very public location at a somewhat private party, and suddenly everyone in Forks seemed to be looking at me as if they were appraising good breeding stock for their prize-winning mare.

_I enjoy the quiet of my own company. I like intelligent conversation with people who have a solid self-identity, rather than the vapid flapping of high school lips, of people trying to be _something_ rather than just be _themselves_. _

_They're all idiots_.

My conscience piped into my inner dialogue. _Some, perhaps, but you never give them a chance to be able to make such sweeping claims. _ He sounded remarkably like my adoptive father, Carlisle.

_Fine, but I do not have to enjoy nor should I be required to suffer their company, _I reasoned.

I had been spending entirely too much time by myself; my inner conversations were becoming quite multi-dimensional.

"Perhaps," I grimaced slightly as I spoke aloud to the walls in my room, "Alice is right."

_Time to get out._

I insisted on driving my Volvo S60R; I loved the thrill of the powerfully fast engine and the control that allowed me to bend fluidly around back road bends. However, I also wanted to insure an emergency exit if the need arose. I would have no problem leaving them there to fend for themselves. Granted, they would all bitch, moan, and then seek retaliation, so perhaps that was not the best mode of action.

It was always fun to jam everyone into the Volvo, especially Emmett, who seemed to have doubled in height and muscle mass over the past few years. He had a presence that made the bypassing stranger think that "he could probably break me in half with his neck alone, so perhaps I'll just walk on the other side of the street," which was so laughably contrary to his personality. He was fun company.

_Just not right now_, I thought nastily, as a pair of large knees shoved into my spine through my seat.

"Jasper," I said, turning my head slightly to my right as I drove, "Would you please remind me of the pitfalls of this particular seating arrangement prior to our next outing?"

Jasper's lips twitched in amusement. "Done," he said genteelly.

Knees jabbed into my seat again, causing my back to arc and forcing me forward.

"Em, _quit it_." I snarled and glared at his dancing eyes in the rearview mirror.

"Oh, _Eduardo_, it's great to see your face, you know, bro!"

"Yes, _Emma_, it's been such a long time since I saw you _this morning_."

"Ooh, somebody's bitchy. No, you know what I mean, yah big prick, I mean see you out in the sunlight!"

"Em, it's overcast. Rainy. Cloudy. No sun."

"Daylight, then, whatever. Pedant."

"Oooh, nice word!" Alice piped in.

"Shuddup, I'm not an idiot, yah know."

"It was a compliment!" Alice defended.

"Yeah, okay. Thanks," Emmett replied sulkily.

I could practically _hear_ his lower lip jutting out into a pout.

_Well, this is going to be a pleasant afternoon._

Both Emmett and Alice were defensive, which always set Jazz off, all of which made me want to turn around and go home. I peered back into the mirror again, and caught Rose--smirking?

_She would._

By the time we turned into the lot, the animosity had dissipated, though I was still entirely reticent about being there.

We walked toward the café, and I recognized several of the vehicles we passed.

_Forest green Honda Accord: Angela Weber._

_Black Toyota Camry: Ben... Hmmm... Something. _

_Blue Toyota Tacoma: Newton vehicle. Not necessarily Mike, could be any of them, _I thought optimistically.

We passed a rusty red Chevy pickup that I surmised was built back in the 50s. I wondered who would be driving that thing, and imagined that it probably didn't perform all that well. It was cute, though, and probably could withstand quite an impact, but that was as much good as I could say about it.

Then I groaned.

Red Honda Civic. Jessica Stanley. At the very least this meant that neither Lauren nor Mike were there, because Alice had informed me that they were in some sort of weird fight. Which was far, _far_ more information than I _ever_ wanted to know.

_I hope it doesn't have anything to do with me_, I thought vainly.

The bell on the door chimed as Emmett yanked it open, and several people looked up and froze their eyes on us we crossed the threshold.

_Ooh, look! It's the Cullen Parade! _

_Ugh. _

_Just another reason to stay home._

The place was packed and noisy, for a rural coffee shop, but smelled delightful. My nose identified the mingled scents of Brazilian, Colombian, Ethiopian, and Arabic beans, chocolate cookies, blueberry scones, _and_, I cheered, _croissants!_

Despite the crowd, we spotted some open armchairs and a loveseat near the right front window, and it was as I headed toward them that an unwelcome wail pierced through the din.

"Edward! Oh, it's so good to see you! I've missed your gorgeous face since school got out, why haven't you called meeeeeeeee?"

Jessica.

I looked around for Alice, hoping that I didn't look as frantic as I felt.

I might love those buttery rolls, but I had no need to put up with this. I would say goodbye, tell them to call Esme for a ride, and return home.

I raised my eyes to briefly assess the situation, and found that Jessica was still intent on attaining and keeping my attention.

"Edward! Over here! You should come sit with me! My table is over there!"

_Fine._ I mentally acquiesced, feeling defeated.

"Jessica." I stated politely and tried to make minimal eye contact in the most austere manner possible.

Just then I caught someone else's gaze--big, beautiful, brown eyes were on me and they did not belong to Jessica Stanley; I realized I had never before seen them nor their owner. She flushed quickly and looked away. She was _cute, beautiful, and innocently sexy, _and I was _intrigued_--no, more than that. I felt a surprisingly strong and instant attraction. She was slender and petite: taller than Alice, but shorter than Rose. She had gorgeous flowing hair and in her web of brown locks were residual rain droplets that reflected the lights of the café.

I knew that I had never before been so attracted to any girl or woman in my life, and this pull to her confounded me.

I watched as she turned to the counter and reached for her steaming mug; my eyes drank in her frame again and rested on her perfect breasts.

I felt as if all the blood in my body rushed past my ears, down through my solar plexus, and into quickly hardening prick.

_Fuck._

_What am I, thirteen?_

_Bad, bad, bad timing._

I forced myself to look away from this mystery girl and shifted my stance slightly, trying to ease the tightness in my pants.

I had completely forgotten about Jessica Stanley, but unfortunately, she had not forgotten about me; she was quickly making her way toward me.

I avoided looking at her face, and turned to find my siblings and friends, but my prick was still hard, my pants were still tight, and walking was uncomfortable.

Jessica did not seem to get the message; even as I walked away from her, I could hear her following me.

_I have had enough of this._

Perhaps it was the lack of blood in my brain that made me do it--I'm not sure.

I rounded on Jessica and she stopped short in front of me.

"Listen."

My voice was stern and her eyes were suddenly big and surprised.

"You and I," I pointed my finger back and forth between the two of us as I shook my head, "Do not exist." She looked confused. "I am genuinely sorry if this comes as a surprise to you, but we are not friends--nor do I want to be friends, or anything else."

I carefully read her face and saw that any upset that I may have caused was merely fleeting, and a half smile was curling on her face.

"Don't be silly, Edward! Can't you feel the great chemistry we have?!" Jessica laughed incredulously at my apparent ignorance, completely unaware of her own.

_Please do not force me to be an asshole. Please do not force me to be an asshole. _The mantra repeated in my head. I was not a cruel person by any means... but I would do anything to protect myself from this idiotic leech.

Behind Jessica, I saw my mysterious brown-eyed brunette sitting down with a Quileute boy in the far back corner. Staring at her, I forgot about Jessica despite her immediate presence. I wanted to know this girl in the corner. I wanted to know her in every way possible.

I shook myself back to my present situation, closed my slackened mouth and swallowed before attempting to speak.

"Jessica, please listen to me. I am flattered by your attraction, but let me make this very clear, for the millionth time, _it is not mutual_."

Her face looked unhappy, and quickly contorted into an ugly mask of anger.

"Ugh! You are blind, Edward Cullen!"

And with that, she turned on her heel and stomped out into the rain.

_Well. That worked._

While the initial confrontation with Jessica had softened my arousal, the interlude of slack-jawed gawking I had allowed myself brought my erection back, harder than before.

I felt divided between staying for an opportunity to meet this girl and the reality that I could not walk up to her and say, "Hi, my name is Edward Cullen, and I'd like to introduce you to my erection. It's for you."

The gruesome scene that would ensue beyond that horrible pick-up line was enough to convince me that I had to leave. Soon_._

I removed my thin jacket and held it in front of me as I approached my family, hoping that no one would notice anything amiss. I would never hear the end of it if Emmett caught wind of this. I couldn't risk it.

A few words with Jasper, and I was out the door, in my car, and racing down the road. My body was rigid with tension, and my foot pressed increasingly harder on the accelerator in response. I drove south, intending to work off my tension with a hike through Bogachiel State Park, just outside of Forks. I hugged the turns expertly and basked in the injection of adrenaline from the speed of my vehicle. Seventy, seventy-five, eighty miles per hour and I was nearly airborne.

Blue lights flashed through the mist in my rearview mirror.

_Fuck! Why now? This never happens!_

Deflated, I slowed and pulled over onto the gravel shoulder.

My hopes of talking my way out of a ticket waned as I saw Charlie Swan rise out of his cruiser, anger permeating every line on his face.

_Damn it, it had to be the Chief, didn't it?_

I rolled down my window and waited for the onslaught.

"Cullen. Edward, is it?" The Chief said gruffly.

I nodded.

"Boy, do you even _know _how _fast_ you were going down _my road?_" he spat angrily.

"No, sir. I'm sorry, sir."

The Chief blew out a puff of air from his lips. "I ought to arrest you, charge you with reckless driving, and revoke your license!"

_Just what I need._ "Please sir, it won't happen again." I would be happy for a ticket if it meant avoiding arrest. I didn't think that the Chief would follow through, but it was enough of a threat to scare me.

I shuddered when I thought of the twin looks of disapproval that would await me at home. I just hoped that Carlisle and Esme would let me keep the car.

"Please, Chief Swan--I've never received a moving violation before, my record is perfect; I was just... upset about something." I couldn't quite get myself to tell him that I had been driving with the hardest erection in history in an effort to save myself from doing something stupid over a beautiful girl.

_How pathetic._

"Look." The Chief must have softened at the sickened look on my face, because his tone was sincere and moderated. "I have to give you a ticket, Edward. I can't let you off the hook, here. It's not right." He pursed his lips and seemed to struggle with his decision.

My stomach clenched as I held in my breath, waiting for him to continue.

"Okay, I'm going to cut you a deal." I sighed with relief. "Your dad is a good guy, Edward; I'm doing this for him. Since this is your first time, I'm only going to charge you along the lowest violation tier. If you'd been going a bit slower, I could let you get away with a warning. Hell, if you'd been going _a lot _slower, we wouldn't even be here!" He stopped talking to glare pointedly at me. "In _my town, _Edward, pushing eighty in a thirty-five zone is not acceptable. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes. Yes, sir. Very clear."

"Next time I'm not going to be so nice, understand?"

"Yes, sir."

After the customary exchange of license and registration and receiving my ticket, I drove away, crestfallen. I had sullied my perfect driving record.

I returned to the café in search of my family and friends, and felt chagrined when I realized that they really had sought out alternate transportation.

I turned abruptly to leave, but a flash of brown hair in my peripheral vision stopped me. It was she, the unwitting cause of my near-arrest; my personal angel and devil combined. I was so attracted to her that it hurt to be near her, but I ultimately decided that it was probably worth it. The café had emptied significantly since I had been there last, and chairs were in abundance. I didn't want to be awkward or appear to be stalking her, so I sat on the other side of the room, and watched.

_Not creepy at all, Edward._

She was sitting at one of the computers, her back to me; her head was in her hand, which was propped up by her elbow on the counter. I discreetly enjoyed the view of her backside while I wondered what her name was, where she was from, and how she landed in Forks. I stared at her dry hair, missing the speckles of water from before, and wondering what she would look like fully soaked... in a white t-shirt... I quickly averted my thoughts to unpleasant things in order to prevent a repeat performance.

_Emmett's gym bag! Rosalie's nail polish remover! Mr. Banner's nose hairs! Chief Swan pulling me over and threatening to arrest me! _

_There, that did it. _

I returned my gaze, and spent the better part of an hour collecting secret treasures of observations like the pattern on her brown sneakers, the frayed edge along the back of her too-long jeans, and the smear of orange paint that contrasted with the blue on her thigh.

She began collecting her things and rose from the stool. I bit my lip in anticipation of the sight of her face, eyes, and yes, her breasts.

_Oh, how the mighty have fallen._

She turned and began walking to the door, and then looked up and saw me watching her. She stopped abruptly, wearing a startled and then panicked look on her face. I wanted to say something--anything--but my mouth felt tight and glued shut, and even if I could talk, what would I say?

Suddenly she ripped herself from her spot, and fled outside to the ancient truck that I speculated about earlier. I watched as the engine started and sickly greenish grey puffs of exhaust bellowed from the tailpipe before she drove away. Her brown eyes stayed in my mind, and although I had never known myself to be so swayed by romantic gestures, the words of one of Shakespeare's sonnets trickled through my head.

_Who will believe my verse in time to come,  
If it were fill'd with your most high deserts?  
Though yet heaven knows it is but as a tomb  
Which hides your life, and shows not half your parts.  
If I could write the beauty of your eyes,  
And in fresh numbers number all your graces,  
The age to come would say 'This poet lies;  
Such heavenly touches ne'er touch'd earthly faces.'  
So should my papers, yellow'd with their age,  
Be scorn'd, like old men of less truth than tongue,  
And your true rights be term'd a poet's rage  
And stretched metre of an antique song:_

_But were some child of yours alive that time,_

_You should live twice, in it, and in my rhyme._

I lifted myself from the comfortable chair and realized that Angela was regarding me with a perplexed look on her face. I assumed that she had seen the highly awkward exchange between us.

"Um, Angela?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know... her name?"

"Oh, you don't know? That's Isabella--Bella, I heard the boy with her say."

Her name rang in my head. _Bella. Beautiful._

"Bella Swan," she continued, "Chief Swan's daughter."

Oh.

Oh, _**shit**__._

_

* * *

_**A/N: So, what did you think? I cracked myself up writing this; I really hope you enjoyed it as much as I did! **

**The lyrics are quoted from Simon and Garfunkel's _"I am a Rock"._  
**

**The sonnet is Shakespeare's Sonnet 17 (XXVII). For all you Shakespearean scholars out there, I _know _that this is one of the "Procreation Sonnets, " and that it was written to a young man. I DON'T CARE. I love it because it says that Edward feels that his words aren't enough to describe the beauty that he sees in Bella.**

**It's worth noting: Reviews **lead to a **Happy Me, **which means** More Writing, **leading to** Updates, **leading to a **Happy You, **leading to **Reviews. :)**


	4. Element of Surprise

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing and make no money. So sad, so true.

**A/N: THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed last chapter!** I love you all. Thank you to lvk1978 for naming chapter three and making punny connections between Simon and Garfunkel, John Donne, and Bella. She said: "No man is an island...and therefore never send to know for whom the bell(a)  
tolls; it tolls for thee." (John Donne). Hahahaha, I love you.

**I'm sorry that this chapter took so long**--there have been multiple real life issues that have gotten in the way of writing. Next chapter will be faster, and you'll get some EPOV (which you'll definitely want after this one).

**_Please Read and Review!_**

* * *

**Bella**

I had never felt so mortified. I didn't even know why I felt that way; I knew I was overreacting--but he--this random smoking hot guy, _Edward, _had been staring at me. Me! _Am I so out-of-the-ordinary for Forks that I am truly gawk-worthy?_ I snorted in disbelief._ I don't really think so. There's nothing particularly special about me. I mean--jeez! Just look at me! Pale skin, paint on my pants...._

I stood before the bathroom mirror, cringing at my appearance as I self-deprecatingly enumerated my average features.

I was glad that Charlie wasn't home yet. I knew that he was not as perceptive as Renée, but given my panicked appearance, even he would be able to tell that I was riled. I hated to imagine the awkward and embarrassing attempt at a conversation that would ensue.

He'd have to drag me down to the station and put me into one of those rooms with a mirrored window and interrogate me bad-ass-cop-style before I would ever confess that "it's about a boy." I huffed a small laugh as I wondered if Forks ever had need for interrogation rooms.

_Yeah. No. I don't think so._

Knowing Charlie's surprising paternal protective streak, he'd probably reach for his gun and go all Gestapo on any poor sod who tried to get within ten feet of me.

_Good thing I only have a first name... I guess._

The storm door slammed with a tinny ricochet in the metal frame.

Charlie made his way into the house, set things down, and removed his boots as he muttered to himself. From down the hall I could vaguely make out the words "stupid idiot," "spoiled brat," and "dumbass teenager." I briefly panicked as I imagined that he was talking about me, and then realized how foolish I was being.

There was the flat snap as he opened a can of beer, and a long sigh as Charlie settled into a chair somewhere and flicked on the TV.

"Bells, you home?"

I paused, pretending not to hear him. _Am I home? Yes. Can I talk to Charlie and appear normal? _ I resisted the urge to take my pulse. My stomach was still clenching and though I could no longer hear the galloping beat through my skull, my heart continued its marathon in my chest.

_Breathe._ I inhaled long and deep all the way into my abdomen.

_Okay, I feel normal. Almost. Enough to get by. It'll have to work!_

I took the stairs one by one and went to join Charlie in the Living Room.

"Hey, dad. Did you call me before? I was in the bathroom; I wasn't sure if I heard you."

He was eating cold pizza for dinner, and my stomach was still roiling enough that thought of food made me queasy.

"No problem. I was just wondering if you'd made anything for dinner, but I remembered we had some leftovers. Not that I expect you to cook for me, Bells, really. Just having you here is nice enough."

"Oh, well, I like cooking now and then, dad, so don't worry too much about it."

"Okay. You know I appreciate whatever you do around the house, right?"

"Yeah, it's no problem, dad."

_Awk-ward._

A few drawn out seconds passed, and the silence between us grew strained.

"So, um... how was your day?"

Charlie groaned and put his food down. "Bells, sometimes I can't believe what kids get up to! Not you, of course, you're a good kid and a cautious driver, I know. But today I was patrolling down by Campbell Pit Road, and a car went flying past me at nearly 80 miles per hour! Bella, the road is clearly marked as a 35 zone. Hell, part of it is residential! The gall of some people, they think that can do whatever the hell that they want!"

I wasn't sure if he was done talking, but I was grinning at his intent expression and the passion in his words.

_Charlie is so cute when he gets all worked up._

"Did you give 'em hell?" I asked, amused.

"Well, I got him all right, but it turned out that it was one of the doctor's sons. Doctor Cullen, down at the hospital. He's great man, and his kids are usually well behaved, but this one--I don't know about him. I shouldn't judge, but I think he's a bad egg. I really wanted to stick him with a big one, but I couldn't do it... I was easy on him as a favor to Carlisle. Too easy, if you ask me. I sure hope that he'll give that kid of his what's coming to him. I know I'm the law, but parenting has its own laws as well. Gotta respect certain small-town ideology and politics, you understand, Bells?"

I nodded back at him, a smirk curved on my lips. I loved that Charlie had real passion for his work. He cared about the people in the town, but he was sure as hell opinionated about small-town lawbreakers. I didn't think that he would last a day on the force in a city... _but somebody has to take care of Forks, right?_

I retired to my room for the evening, pleased that Charlie had successfully diverted my angst. The moment I climbed into bed my mind became a whirlwind of thoughts and my anxious stomach fared no better. I saw Edward in my mind, his eyes like glowing orbs against the lush backdrop of Forks. I wanted to fall into the green and never return. My dreams that night were amorphous colors and emotions and nothing specific came through in my mind aside from Edward's eyes.

The morning brought streams of bright light through the window. I cracked one eye open to the floating motes of dust dancing amid the glow of the day. The world felt alive and exciting, and as I dressed, I realized that I had not been so thrilled to be awake since I left Phoenix. Be it the sunlight or the burning of eyes in my mind, I did not care. I pulled out one of my art boxes and ventured outside into a patch of sun in the front of the house.

I laid a ratty blanket out onto the damp mossy ground and unfolded my portable easel before me. Shoes and socks off, I stood in front of a new canvas and began to sketch. My hand had apparently declared self-determination from my body; the lines and shapes that streamed from my pencil were foreign and surprising to me. Deciduous trees with dangling epiphytes, primordial ferns that threatened mutiny from the current era, and squishy-looking mosses were born from my gliding pencil tip. A certain part of me was aghast, but my better senses ruled and let the greenery proceed on the page.

I could do this for hours, and often did. Time disappeared as I created art and lost myself to the colors and forms, using my artist's eyes and hands to evoke romanticized images.

I would forget that I had paint on my hands, and later discover that I had a new streak of blue in my hair or war paint smudged haphazardly on my cheekbones. The sun passed overhead, and I was lost in my world of oil.

It was when my stomach growled painfully that I forced myself to take a break. I hadn't eaten anything since that massive cookie yesterday afternoon, and my stomach was making its displeasure known--it felt as though it were threatening to cave in on itself. I was ravenous.

My inspiration and creativity was at an all-time-high for Forks, and I couldn't bear to lose it. I quickly assembled a sandwich and a hunk of watermelon, poured some lemonade, and returned to my open-air studio, food in hand.

I made myself sit down on the blanket, feet beneath me as I ate. It wouldn't do any good to ingest the paint, so I forced myself not to multitask. I studied my painting, pleased with the verdant scene that was erupting from the canvas. I couldn't help but laugh at myself for the color scheme; his eyes were still emblazoned in my brain. It had been so long since I had been attracted to someone--let alone so viscerally, that I clutched the physical memory and held it fast.

_Maybe there is hope for me yet! I'm not doomed! _But as I mused over this fantasy, I recognized one simple problem. _I ran away from him. If he were ever interested... well surely he must think I'm nuts, and that does not bode well for any chances that I might once have had. Besides... he's so unbelievably... gorgeous, and what am I? _

Watermelon dribbled down my chin, and I wiped it away with the back of my hand, and then dried my hands on my pants. I tucked my thoughts away into my mind as I took up my paintbrushes again.

As I dipped my brushes into the paint and mixed my palette, I felt a niggling sensation in my brain that caught my attention. A familiar miasma of unease settled around me like a shroud, initiating the impulse to flee. The boring sensation in the back of my head made me feel as if someone were watching me; a chill trickled slowly down my spine as the panic swept through me and tightened my lungs.

_Keep it together, Bella. You're in Forks, not Phoenix. Forks._

One forced breath after another slowly calmed my nerves and averted a panic attack. I took a moment to observe my surroundings. It had been a very long time since I had imagined someone's unwanted presence. Try as I might, though, I still felt it. Checking once more, I looked carefully around, and saw no one. I could not help but feel foolish.

_It's moments like these that make me wonder if I really am just nuts._

Suddenly, a shocking crack sounded from behind me, followed closely by a thundering thud that traveled through the ground. On high alert again, I jumped and turned in a single movement, for once agile in my response to danger.

_Edward?_

There were no words to describe the surprise of that moment; I was at once elated and horrified.

Before me was Edward from the café crouched in a cat-like landing pose. Behind him was a rather large dead branch lying sadly on the ground, a fallen soldier or a shipwreck remnant washed ashore.

My mouth was agape, and I was confused and angry at the startled reaction and panic that he caused. I bit my lip as my hormones rushed in response to his proximity.

_What do I say? What do I do?! Something--anything!_

Edward raised himself up, and looked at me tentatively, again as if he were going to say something.

I closed my mouth, and clenched my paintbrushes tightly in my hand.

"Um, hello." He said quietly. "My name is Edward Cullen. I'm sorry if I startled you, I didn't mean to. I just..." his voice trailed off, and he looked pained.

The adrenaline ebbed, and I returned to my senses.

_What the hell were you doing?_

I was both happy to see him in the flesh, and indignant that he had scared the living shit out of me.

"Edward." I tried not to sound too hard, but failed. "What the hell were you doing in the tree... in my front yard?"

He gaped at me and I watched his lips quirk and quiver as he took his time answering.

"Well, I, um, I like climbing trees, I guess."

_Is this guy for real?_

"I mean..." he began again. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I was watching you paint. I fully understand if you're angry with me, I think I'd be." His eyes were downcast and remorseful.

"Yeah." I was kind of pissed, gorgeous eyes, body, _abs, forearms, jawline..._ or none.

"Well, don't do it again. Please. I don't like being watched. Or startled."

"I'm really sorry, Bella."

I watched his lips as they caressed my name and lingered on the lyrical 'el' sound. It was titillating to hear something so dear to me on his lips.

_Wait. What?_

"How do you know my name?" I wondered aloud, confusion on my face.

"Oh." His eyebrows raised, widening his eyes into a comically panicked look. "Well... I asked around. Small town, you know?"

_He... asked? Whoah._

My mind and body felt overloaded as comprehension dawned and a clear picture unfolded. Gorgeous guy stares, asks, and watches me? _I should be so creeped out by this, by him. Why am I not?_

"Look," he stumbled, "I'm sorry, it won't happen again. I made a big mistake."

I became so tangled in my thoughts that I had forgotten how to respond. I realized that if I didn't say something, he would disappear, and I may never see him again. The thought of losing this Edward-shaped excitement in my life was surprisingly agonizing. I had to do or say something, but I didn't know what or how to do.

_The longer I stand here awkwardly thinking about it, the more likely it is that he will walk away._

Edward decisively turned to leave, and began walking across the lawn.

_Talk, dammit!_

"Edward, wait!"

He stopped, and turned his head to me.

"Sorry. It's just... you shouldn't have scared me like that, but, and..." I stumbled as I tried in vain to formulate a sentence. "Can we start over?"

A small half-smile quivered on his lips, and he turned fully toward me now.

"Start over?" he asked.

"Yeah." My nervous excitement increased as I realized what I planned to do. I placed the paintbrushes on the now paint-smudged blanket, and wiped my hand against my pant leg as I walked toward him.

"Hi, my name is Bella Swan." I held out my hand to him in greeting, feeling self-conscious and uncomfortable, but thrilled at the danger the Edward represented.

His grin climbed his face as he reached out to meet my hand. He folded my hand into his, and in the fraction of a second that our skin met, electricity exploded through my skin, up my arm, across my chest. It traversed every distant part of my body, and blood rushed past my ears. Through the flood, I saw him smile rapturously at me, and I distantly hear him say, "Hi, I'm Edward Cullen."

_I am dead. Right? I must be dead._

Whole, long seconds may have passed until the fog on my brain lifted and the electrical storm wreaking havoc on my neurons ceased. Our hands were still clasped between us, and I liked the way his fully eclipsed mine. I felt safe.

I slowly pulled my hand back, and tried to regain any remnant of intelligence left.

"It's uh--very nice to meet you, Edward." I tried not to sound to awed, but thought that I failed.

"Bella," Edward said with a fiery look in his eye, "the pleasure is mine."

I realized that I had passed some paint onto Edward's hand from mine, and jumped at the opportunity to touch him again.

"Edward, I'm so sorry. I think I got some paint on you--it's oil, so it's stubborn to remove. Let me get some turpentine for you."

I turned and grinned victoriously as I walked over to my art box and pulled out a bottle of the pungent solvent. Grabbing a rag, I doused it, and turned to go back to where Edward was standing. Instead of my smoothly executed plan, though, I walked straight into him and smacked my face against his broad chest.

I felt myself stumble, and was momentarily confused, but realized that I was safely ensconced in Edward's arms as a result of his astonishing reflexes.

_At least one of us is graceful, _I thought as I swooned.

I stayed in his arms a second to long, not wanting to leave them.

"Sorry--sorry, Edward, I didn't know you followed me."

He laughed, and mumbled something about "no harm done."

"Here, let me get the paint off of you."

I clutched the rag and carefully scrubbed the blue off his proffered palm, relishing the contact of our skin when my fingertips brushed cautiously against his.

_I could get used to this._

_I want more._

I laughed aloud to myself.

"What's so funny?" He asked, smiling at me.

"Oh, um... nothing. Just remembering something."

"Oh."

"You're probably going to want to wash your hands off... you can come inside, if you want," I offered.

"Thank you--you didn't need to do that, you know." He smiled at me, and my heart fluttered in my chest uncontrollably.

"Ah, well, don't want you walking around being all blue," I said, then laughed at my unintended pun, and was pleased to hear his laughter follow mine as we stepped into the house and I led him to the kitchen.

I let him wash his hands as I stood off to the side, ogling him freely while his back was turned. Once again, a sense of insecurity swept over me as I processed his striking features. Perhaps it was foolish to compare my own caliber to his but I was unable to stop myself. I felt certain that some 'grand joke' at my expense would be revealed.

There was no laughter. Edward shut the faucet off and turned to me, his hands dripping water onto the floor.

"Do you perhaps have a towel?"

I jumped and grabbed one from its splayed resting place on the counter, and handed it to him. Our skin made no contact this time, but his face was glowing at me and it was nearly as good.

I looked at the clock and was astonished to see that it was already nearing four o'clock.

"Well, I ought to be going, I guess."

"Oh. Really? It's just so nice to meet someone around here," I explained.

"It's been a pleasure to meet you as well. Unfortunately, Esme, my mom, said she was making some extravagant dinner tonight, so I really don't want to be late."

"Dinner? This early?"

"Ah, no, not quite." I was surprised to see that he looked a little embarrassed and flushed.

"I have a car," he said, "but it's not drivable at the moment."

"Oh. Is something wrong with it?"

His hand raked through his hair as he cast his eyes downward. "Um, well, no, there's nothing wrong. With my car, that is. I've just lost my driving privileges for the month."

"Oh, how horrible! I can't imagine not being able to get out of Forks! What did you do to deserve that?"

"Got a ticket. Speeding."

Suddenly I recollected Charlie's story from the night before, and slid a few pieces into place.

_Dumbass teenager._

_Dr. Carlisle Cullen._

_Cullen._

_Edward CULLEN._

"Soooo, Edward," I smiled devilishly, and laughed when his head popped up at my change in tone. "You wouldn't happen to have been driving eighty miles per hour on the edge of town yesterday afternoon, would you?"

The hand in his hair dragged down his face and he peered at me through his fingers.

"Yes," he mumbled.

"Really? Ha! Charlie was so pissed off last night!"

"He told you about that? About me?"

"He told me about some teenaged son of Dr. Cullen who got pulled over for speeding recklessly. I'm afraid he's not your biggest fan."

"The feeling is entirely mutual, I assure you. It's because of him that I have no car right now."

"Wait, wait, wait. It's _Charlie's fault_ that you were _speeding?_"

Edward scowled at me and rolled his yes. "No. Of course not. That was my fault--"

But before he could finish his sentence, we both heard heavy tires on the gravel and snapped our eyes to the open door.

"I probably shouldn't be here right now... given that your father, well... you know..." Edward's explanation was broken by his inquiring glances around the room.

"Um, do you happen to have a back door by any chance?"

"Oh, no... sorry."

A car door slammed shut outside, and footsteps began crunching across gravel toward the front door.

"How about a garage? Open window?" I watched his face as his eyebrows rose higher and knitted more tightly together with anxiety as he realized that Charlie would be crossing the threshold within a matter or seconds.

In a critical moment propelled by sympathy and sheer proximity to the source of my hormone frenzy, I decided to offer refuge.

"Follow me."

I led him up the stairs and into my room, quickly scrambling to collect the scattered clothes decorating my floor. I had clearly not been expecting company.

I shut my door behind Edward and turned to him. We heard Charlie bump around downstairs; his presence as a third party and authority in the house made the escape to my room into a clandestine act full of wanton possibilities. I blushed as I realized who he was and where we were... and the juxtaposition and potential sent trills of excitement through me and made me shy and nervous.

"Um... yeah, so this is my room, person whom I've just met."

Edward bent over, his attention caught on the stack of painted canvasses resting in the corner nearest him.

"Are these all yours? He asked and glanced up at me.

I nodded in response, unsure of anything about this situation.

"May I?" he gestured to them.

"Sure, let me pull them out, though."

I shuffled through them, and grabbed a few.

"This is of Phoenix."

He gently took it from my hands and held it up, reverently studying the scene.

"Is this... where you're from?"

"Yeah." I sighed. _Home._

I passed him two more, the first a macroscopic view of a cactus flower in full bloom at night, and the second, its twin image during the day.

"These are two out of a trio--the cactus that should be positioned between them is on my wall."

"Why don't you hang them together?"

I snorted ungracefully. "I ran out of nails?"

Edward laughed until I shushed him and pointed downstairs.

"Bella?" Charlie's muffled voice echoed up the stairwell. "You got company?" he shouted.

I quickly shot Edward what I hoped was a reassuring look; I couldn't be sure, given that the butterflies that had taken up permanent residence in my stomach cascaded to my ears and toes every time I looked at him.

"I'll be right back."

Downstairs, I found Charlie in his chair, beer in one hand, remote in the other.

_Predictable_, I thought affectionately.

"Hey dad, you called?"

"Hey Bella--do you have company? Is Jake here? I thought I heard someone--"

I interrupted Charlie, making nervous denials and explanations about obnoxious talk radio and his old-man hearing. He bought it readily, either too trusting or too tired to care.

At the top of the stairs I paused in front of my door, feeling nervous, anxious, excited, and bewildered about returning to Edward's company.

I turned the knob and peered into my room, my heart sinking as I looked around and couldn't find him.

_How? Where? _

"Edward?" I whispered.

"Out here." A quiet voice sounded from beyond the sheer curtains dancing in the breeze of the open window.

I pulled the curtain aside, and saw Edward perched like a bird on the moss-covered branch of the large Maple.

_Does he have a death wish?!_

"You--you could fall! The moss--the branch isn't--"

Edward's eyes crinkled as his smile spread and he laughed at me.

"Relax. I do this all the time. Remember?"

_Yes, and I clearly remember that you fell out the same tree earlier!_

"You can't get down that way, you know... Charlie will see you through the living room window."

He smirked.

"I was thinking of scaling the roof, actually, and going down the other side."

"Bphht--what? You're insane!"

_He wouldn't really do it. Would he?_

I immediately felt embarrassed as I realized that he was mocking me.

He smiled cockily and climbed to a higher branch.

"Edward! Please come down! I don't care how much Charlie dislikes you; he'll really hate it if you fall out of the tree and crack your head open on his lawn!"

_Not to mention how I'll feel. Please don't fall. Please don't fall. Please don't fall._

I heard the creaking snap of dead wood, and watched in horror as Edward slipped--and grabbed on to my windowsill.

_Are you a freaking monkey?_

Edward climbed back into my room, his clothes smeared with black and brown and green from the wet moss coating the branches.

"No, not a monkey. Just a man."

"Did I say that out loud?"

_Ugh._

My heart was racing and I was _pissed_ at him for scaring me like that.

_Breathe, Bella. Breathe._

"What was that all about?"

"What? The tree?"

"Yes, the tree! You could have killed yourself!"

My ire was evident. His face fell, all traces of arrogance disappearing.

"Oh. I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I climb trees all the time, actually. It's no big deal."

"It is too a big deal!"

My attraction to him was tickling the corner of my mind, and I slammed the door shut.

_I do not need this!_

I left Edward in my room to go collect my spread of art supplies on the lawn before the evening dew settled and moistened everything. The painting was wet and cumbersome to carry; I ended up smudging my shirt with lines of green and blue despite my care.

Charlie had fallen asleep in his chair, and I nudged him awake and herded him upstairs. Normally I would have let him be, but the faster I could get Edward out of my room the better. I wanted him, but I didn't _want _to want him, and I was confused and suddenly felt very alone. I needed a girl friend to talk to, and I had no one.

When I returned to my room, my heart sang as I saw that Edward had sat on my bed.

He was looking up at the art on my walls, and when he turned to me, I felt myself adrift in his eyes once again. They were soft but bright, and so apologetic.

"I'm really sorry. This is--I know this is imposing of me, but do you think... maybe I could get a ride home? So I'm not late for dinner? I might make it in time still..."

"Yeah, okay. That's fine."

"Is your dad...?"

"Yeah, he's in bed. I guess he went to work really early."

Edward snorted, and I glared at him.

"Sorry. Again. Jeez, you must think I'm an asshole."

I sighed deeply and propped my drying painting up on an easel.

"No. You're just being stupid. It happens to be best of us, I guess."

The corner of his mouth quirked into a smile, gave him a small smile in return.

_Honestly, the sooner you leave, the better. Before I do something stupid, too._

The drive to his house was uneventful, aside from the nervous pain that I was experiencing due to his nearness in the tightly enclosed cab of my truck. He directed me down one road and then another and up a long winding drive through the dark woods. My jaw dropped at the first sight of his expansive house, and he grinned at me in return.

"It's something, isn't it?"

"Um... yeah. Have you always lived here?"

"No, we moved here a few years ago."

"Oh. I guess that explains why I've never seen you before this summer."

"Yeah. We lived in Denali, Alaska before."

"Cold."

"Very. But beautiful."

"So Edward, will you try not to have any more run-ins with my dad, please? You'll give him a coronary or something."

"Um... well. I don't know if I can make any promises, but I hope it's not at the detriment of his health."

"And why's that?"

"What if I want to see you again?"

My heart thudded in my chest at his words, and my brain stopped.

"You want to see me again?" I swallowed and bit my lip nervously.

"Yeah. Definitely. Can I?"

_This is not a good idea, Bella. _

_Oh, but no, it's such a good idea._

_But it's not. _

_To hell with it._

"Um. Okay. But please don't try to kill yourself in that tree again, okay?"

"No promises there, either." He grinned impishly at me as he took down my number and promised to call soon.

My heart fluttered out the door with him as he left, gave me a wave, and entered his house.

I retraced my steps home and arrived safely in my room, clutching my phone like a lifeline and a promise.

_What have I done? Am I overreacting? Why do I feel so happy and... scared?_

I checked the time, wondered if Renée would still be awake, and decided that it didn't matter because she would want this call regardless of the hour.

As much as I did not want to share Edward, I could not stand to keep this to myself, and somehow, Renée always had the right answers.

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**A/N: **My beta, intheskies, pointed out that Edward is a huge creeper. My response is: S. Meyer made him that way! I mean, really. He was sneaking into Bella's room for months without her knowledge. _That's not creepy at all. _The only reason that Bella didn't freak out any more than she did is because _it's Edward._

EPOV next chapter! :)


	5. Smitten

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

**A/N: Look!-- It's a speedy update! NO WAY. Thank you to inthestars (beta!) for everything, really. XD  
**

**I don't mean to trivialize addiction, but reviews are my crack. If you like it, please review! If you don't, let me know why!  
**

***Love you guys.***

* * *

**Edward**

"Edward."

_I cannot believe myself. How could I let a girl get under my skin like that?_

"Edward."

_This has never happened before! Now Esme is home, and she knows too._

"EDWARD." Carlisle's voice permeated my racing mind and I realized that he had been trying to gain my attention.

"Sorry, Carlisle, Esme. I didn't mean to--I'm still just a bit upset."

My parents sat tensely in worn leather chairs, their faces stern and stressed as I continued to wear holes in the Turkish rug in the parlor with my pacing.

"Edward, dear," Esme calmly began, "would you mind sitting? We'd like to have your attention for a moment, and you're only working yourself up pacing like that."

As per usual, Esme was correct. I pulled a deep inhalation into my lungs, straightened my posture, and sat in the chair opposite them, steeled for the onslaught.

I knew what was coming.

"Your mother and I have discussed what happened this afternoon, and we have decided, while we know that you are usually responsible, that your driving was rather reckless. I spoke with Chief Swan, Edward. He stopped by the hospital."

I cringed at the thought. On record, Chief Swan had charged me with speeding forty-five in a thirty-five zone; only ten miles per hour over the speed limit. In reality, my car had been clocked at seventy-nine. In a thirty-five zone. And Carlisle _knew._ He had told Esme, I was certain.

"Edward!" Esme's face was painted with worry and concern, and it just broke my heart to know that I was the cause. "What if you had been hurt? Eighty miles per hour! In _Forks_!"

My previous bravado evaporated under her wounded gaze; my shoulders slumped and I hung my head in shame.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not enough!" Carlisle countered. "You displayed a clear lack of judgment that could have ended very poorly for you--or perhaps someone else. Had you thought of that?" Carlisle, normally relaxed, was clearly imagining the same gruesome end that had Esme near tears.

_Had I thought at all? There was no thought. There was only Bella, the doe-eyed vixen who vexed my blood._

"No. You are right. I wasn't thinking properly. Or at all." I looked into their eyes and tried my best to convey sincerity, "I truly am sorry. I don't know what came over me."

Carlisle visibly calmed. "I am grateful that you understand the gravity of the situation, Edward. If there is anything going on in your life that you need to talk about, you know that we both are always here for you." Carlisle paused, looked over at his wife, and took her hand gently into his.

"Driving is a privilege, not a right. Your mother and I have decided that while the law granted you some amnesty for your transgression, we are not going to be so lenient. You have lost your car and license for one month--you may begin driving again after July twenty-fourth. Is this acceptable?"

My laughter, incongruous with the serious tone of the conversation, echoed through the room.

"Only you would ask if a punishment were 'acceptable'."

Esme tittered and Carlisle smiled, the both of them relieved that I was not going to fight.

"At the very least, I know when I am in the wrong. I really am sorry. I hope that you accept my apology, and though I am not thrilled... I promise to obey your sentence."

"Need we be so formal? It is not a sentence, dear. It's a reminder."

_Easy for you to say, Esme! _

I sorely wanted to roll my eyes and speak my rebuttal, but I respected my parents too much to fight them over this.

"Ah, well. No. I suppose not."

Carlisle looked at me kindly, clearly understanding my frustration. "Your apology is accepted. Look at it this way, Edward. If you were not such a good student and normally so responsible, you would lose your car for the remainder of the summer. The month will pass more quickly than you think. Immerse yourself in your hobbies; spend time outside. Perhaps it will not be such a detriment to you to slow down in more ways than one."

I sighed. Carlisle would always try to remind me of the positive, but for now, I wanted to sulk.

"Would you like my keys, then?"

"No, I do not think that is necessary, Edward," Esme answered. "We both trust you to keep your word."

On the one hand, I appreciated the mutual respect that we had for each other. On the other, I knew that my keys would be a constant reminder of what I could not do. How subtly devious.

_Never underestimate Esme, _I reminded myself.

"Well! Who is hungry for dinner?" Esme asked cheerfully.

This time I _did_ roll my eyes. _As if I would have an appetite after that._

Carlisle just smiled and said, "You're free to go. We understand if you don't want to dine with us tonight, but would you mind letting your brother and sister know that we're eating?"

"Not at all." I replied, already on my way to my room.

Hours later, my stomach rumbled unpleasantly and I regretted my decision to refuse dinner. I crept through the dark and quiet halls of our house and found my way to the kitchen, where I found a plate of food wrapped with my name on it in the fridge.

_How could I ever be angry with Esme or Carlisle when they take such good care of me?_

Muffled laughter came from the living room, and I looked around the corner to see Rosalie lip-locked with my brother, straddling his lap in an armchair.

"Ugh, keep it to yourselves, guys."

Their lips smacked as they separated and Emmett peered around Rosalie in the dark. "Eddie, Eddie, Eddie! We were by ourselves until you crashed the party! Hey--heard that you are a lawbreaker now--nice one, man! Didn't think you had it in you--just don't come bawling to me about needing rides all the time, okay?"

"Yeah, Emmett, thanks for rubbing it in." I scowled nastily and turned on my heel, food in hand, and headed up to my room for the night.

The morning was glorious. The weather was perfect for an outdoor excursion, and I wished dearly that I could go for a long drive. Oddly enough, I was more concerned about losing my parents' trust than about breaking the law, though Chief Swan did certainly scare the crap out of me.

Thinking about him reminded me of Angela's words at the café. So consumed by the loss of my car, I had forgotten that this beautiful Bella, the young woman who provoked my basest of instincts, was the daughter of Chief Swan.

_Yet another perfect irony for my perfect life._

_I ought to just forget about her now_, I thought to myself.

But her image was emblazoned into my mind: her cascading hair, honey brown eyes, and her perfect breasts that I could almost feel in my hands. My imagination propelled itself down a dark path of objectification and I reveled in the intensity of my sudden arousal. In the shower, I cleaned myself thoroughly, and took time to pair my firm strokes on my erection with visceral imagery in my mind, pausing at and savoring each thought.

_Bella._

_Bella's breasts._

_Bella's breasts through a wet white t-shirt._

_Bella removing her clothes._

_No, Bella doing a striptease._

_For me._

_Bella, naked, grabbing her breasts, and fondling herself. _

_Bella, naked, two-handedly soaping up my silver Volvo with an obscenely large and wet sponge, bending over the hood in front of me, turning to me, and asking in a husky voice, "Going to join me, Edward?"_

With that final thought, neurons fired, hormones peaked, a surge of electricity shot down my spine and through my balls, and I erupted against the shower wall. As I milked the last drop and paused in the hazy afterglow, the cells throughout my body began to calm, and the jets of water cleaned away any evidence of my fantasy and pleasure.

_Today will be a good day,_ I thought muzzily with my melted brain.

Downstairs, Alice was buzzing around the kitchen, and Jazz sat on a stool, salivating as he watched her cook, fork in one hand, knife in the other.

"Aw, Alice, you shouldn't have!" I joked cheerfully, as she flipped pancakes and slid a plate in front of her boyfriend.

"You know very well that they aren't for you. But... if there are any left over,"

"Not likely!" Jazz interrupted with a full mouth of food.

"If there are any left over," Alice continued, "You are more than welcome to have some. In fact, I think that we might be able to spare... oh, I don't know, about four pancakes? Yes, that sounds about right. So, help yourself while they're hot!"

I grinned gleefully as I grabbed a plate and served myself.

"Alice, you are a goddess and I love you dearly, have I ever told you that?"

"Yes, Edward, I know."

A devious gleam lit Alice's eyes, and she closed in on me as I bit into my first mouthful.

"So Edward. What happened to you yesterday afternoon? You threatened to bail on us, but I never thought you'd actually do it! And then Emmett told me that you were pulled over! What happened?" Alice sounded miffed.

Had my audience been anyone other than Alice and Jasper, I would not have reacted. As I thought of the foibles of yesterday afternoon: of meeting _Bella_, getting hard for _Bella_, and being pulled over by _Bella's father_, an unfamiliar heat crept into my cheeks.

"Oh my God--dude, are you blushing?" Jasper dropped his fork and turned to look at my embarrassed face.

"Nothing happened," I gritted.

"My ass! That is the guiltiest face I have ever seen!"

Jasper smiled at me with knowing eyes. "_Definitely_ guilty, this one."

_Great. Just great._

"There's nothing to say! Got to go; see you later." I stood abruptly, tossed the rest of my breakfast into the trash, slid my plate into the dishwasher, and out of habit, grabbed my keys from the rack by the door and left.

The Cullen house was certainly large enough for all of us, but there had been many times since we'd moved to Forks that I had needed to escape from my brother and sister and their ever-present significant others for the solace of the forest. I had discovered all of the existing paths and had created some of my own. I forded streams and rivers and watched the black-tailed deer lap quietly from the moving water. I scaled giant conifers and felt myself become a part of the exquisite ecology of the canopy, marveling at the little plants that grew from moist moss on treetop branches. I found my peace in the solitude of nature.

Not today. My mind was restless as I wandered down my well-worn paths, around bear-marked trees and out into the sunny clearing. Some days I would bring my composition book with me just in case I had some inspiration, but my mind was so far from music today that I found the thought laughable.

As I eventually emerged from the cool shade of the trees out onto our long winding road, I decided to head toward town, perhaps stop by the café, and catch a ride back home with Carlisle. It was a rough plan, and Esme had said that she wanted me home for dinner, but I felt confident that it would work.

_If all else fails, I can always call Alice for a ride... but given this morning, Alice and Jasper will undoubtedly hound me._

_Cross your fingers and hope for Carlisle!_

When I returned home that night, I slipped in through the side door, shut it closed, and groaned as I slid to the floor.

_This girl will surely be the death of me... I welcome it with open arms!_

I had been nearing town when I had seen the most breath-taking image before me. In snug jeans and a paint-smudged t-shirt, Bella Swan, the girl of my dreams and nightmares combined, stood partially hidden behind a canvas on an easel out in Chief Swan's front yard. The images of my morning activities came to me unbidden, and a rush of hormones shot through me.

I stood motionless, jaw agape, heart racing, afraid to break the spell that held me bound to the sight of her, and her to her painting. But it wasn't enough. I could not see enough of her, and my desire overrode any common sense I may have once had. So I crept. I employed every ounce of stealth that I owned and skulked into the shadows of their perfect specimen of a climbing tree.

_I just wanted to see the painting._

_Ha! Yeah, right._

_I just wanted to see her._

_Oh, Bella, Bella, Bella..._

I had glanced up into the branches that rose and formed the perfect nest for a crazy monkey such as myself. My mind was racing and my body thrummed. I had done nothing to incur anyone's wrath yet, but my normally functioning brain had been usurped via a violent and hormonal coup d'état led by Bella's nearness.

I heard a car coming down the road, and took the opportunity of background noise to make my move. Grabbing onto the lowest branch tree in the yard, I swung myself into the arms of the tree with ease and clambered up the spoke-like branches. I wanted to climb up far enough to be safe from her view, but not so far as to obscure my own view of her... delicate features.

As I settled into a spot on a good branch, I watched as she swirled the paintbrush bristles sensuously along her palette and applied the green-blue paint to the canvas. The notion that this beautiful, sexy, hot-as-hell girl was also a talented artist had sent me reeling into throes of adoration in addition to the attraction I already felt.

I was disappointed to see her go inside, but my body cheered when she returned carrying a plate of food.

I silently watched Bella eat her sandwich. I could tell that she was trying to eat quickly, and I enjoyed the excitement that she had for her art. I watched as she unselfconsciously bit into a juicy slab of pink watermelon. I panted as her lush lips spat out a seed. I salivated as a drop of juice dribbled down her lips and cheek, feeling both hungry for Bella and more jealous of food than I had ever been before.

_I wanted to be that watermelon._

_Bella, you can bite, chew, swallow, or spit me out any day of the week._

My brain had officially died.

Wiping her hands on her pants, Bella picked up her paintbrushes and began to mix her palette again. I sat still in the tree, and watched curiously as she stopped what she was doing and began looking around.

_As if she knew someone were watching._

I had not planned on being caught. I had not planned anything at all, and this seemed to be a new trend in my behavior since Bella had entered my life. I nervously began to shift, trying to stay silent and climb down behind the trunk of the tree where I could hide unseen. I was almost near the bottom of the tree, when a dead branch creaked menacingly beneath my weight and snapped with a loud splitting crack. In my haste, I had chosen wrong--but my reflexes were honed, and I turned my imminent fall into a jump to the ground.

And I landed in front of Bella Swan.

I lifted my head and watched as Bella, terrified, jumped and spun with her paintbrushes still in hand and held out like dangerous weapons.

The shock of the fall had still echoed in my mind, and Bella looked confused, angry, scared, and utterly bewildered by my presence in her yard.

I stood slowly and realized that I needed to say something to explain myself.

_Speak, Edward! You've done it before!_

"Um, hello." I faltered. "My name is Edward Cullen. I'm sorry if I startled you, I didn't mean to. I just..." I fumbled for the right words in my head, and came up empty.

Suddenly Bella's shoulders relaxed slightly, but her face tightened into obvious anger.

"Edward." I heard her speak my name, and I was happy just to hear it come from her lips.

"What were you doing in the tree... in my front yard?" She asked.

_What do I say?_

_The truth? _

_Do I lie?_

_What do I say? _

_Oh, God, she's gorgeous._

I groaned as I replayed this embarrassing scene, and lifted myself from my melted position on the kitchen floor, and headed up to my room.

"Well, I, um, I like climbing trees, I guess."

_What the hell? What kind of shit explanation is that? _

"_Hurr, I like climbing trees, Bell-ah." _

_Ugh. I disgust even myself! _

Beautiful Bella stared at me, incredulous, and I realized that my answer would not suffice. I had fucked up.

_Time for the truth, Edward._

"I mean... sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I was watching you paint. I fully understand if you're angry with me, I think I'd be."

I felt horrible.

"Yeah," she angrily agreed. "Well, don't do it again." She said. "Please. I don't like being watched. Or startled."

"I'm really sorry, Bella," I said with as much remorse as I felt.

_You are such a prick, Edward. A creepy stalking prick, at that._

I watched as the breeze picked up strands of Bella's hair and tossed them around her head.

_I am so smitten._

Bella looked up at me, startled. "How do you know my name?" she asked.

"Oh."

_OH. Shit._

"Well... I asked around. Small town, you know?"

My ability to lie utterly failed me in Bella's presence, and as I watched her face, I realized that I had irreparably fucked this one up.

_Figures._

"Look, I'm sorry; it won't happen again. I made a big mistake."

I waited hopefully for a moment thinking that maybe I still had a chance--but Bella said nothing. I turned to leave, feeling defeated as I began walking away.

_Then everything started going right._

When Bella called me back, my heart sang. When she suggested we "start over," I could have kissed her, but I was sure that it would not have helped my cause much. When we re-introduced each other and I took her small hand in mine, I thought that I would die from the pleasure of her skin alone.

_Is it possible to know from a fleeting touch?_

I wanted to hold her, to have access to the rest of her body, to touch, taste, and take every inch of her form--all from the lingering friction of our fingertips.

When we reluctantly let go, I marveled at the blue-green paint that transferred from her fingers to mine. I would have kept it as a souvenir, but I accepted Bella's offer to clean my hand even more readily.

_I may hardly know you, but I know myself, Bella, and I am yours._

Bella had turned and tripped into my arms, and I smiled smugly as the tactile pleasure surged. I held her for a moment too long, not wanting to release her now that I had what I wanted.

_Alas._

She took my blue hand into hers and gently rubbed away the oil with acrid turpentine. When her fingertips ghosted over my palm, chills exploded from the epicenter of her touch.

When Bella laughed at something, the cutest curving smile lit her face, and I wanted desperately to know what made her happy.

_So smitten._

"What's so funny?"

"Oh, um... nothing. Just remembering something," she replied nonchalantly.

I followed her into Chief Swan's house with some trepidation, but her little unintended pun about "being blue" made me laugh.

_I am bluer than you know, sweet girl. Blue heart, blue hand, blue balls... but you'll fix me up, right?_

I watched her backside and caught glimpses of her luscious rounded breasts as she led me into the kitchen.

I felt her eyes on my back as I washed the turpentine from my hands, and smiled broadly.

_I can hook her... I know I can. But how? I need a plan._

I turned around with my hands dripping in the air and asked for a towel. When she handed it to me, I saw her face flush, and I couldn't help myself! I grinned again, just happy to be in her adorable, beautiful, sexy presence.

It was almost enough to make me forget who her father was. Almost.

When I glanced at a clock on the wall, the late hour surprised me. I was disappointed to realize that if I were going to make it to dinner on time I would have to leave immediately.

"Well, I ought to be going, I guess." I said quietly.

"Oh. Really? It's just so nice to meet someone around here." Bella's face fell, but my heart swelled at her words.

_Tiny, insignificant words that mean she enjoyed my company_.

"It's been a pleasure to meet you as well. Unfortunately, Esme, my mom, said she was making some extravagant dinner tonight, so I really don't want to be late."

"Dinner? This early?"

_How do I explain this?_

"Ah, no, not quite. I have a car, but it's... not drivable at the moment."

When Bella asked me if there was something wrong with my car, I almost choked. I wanted to tell her some tragic story that did not vilify me, but I could not seem to lie to her. I wanted this girl to like me, but my bravado had disappeared under her gaze, and the truth poured out.

I watched as puzzle pieces fit together in her head, and my heart stopped when she smiled with a comically evil glint in her eye and talked about her father... talking about _me._

If not for the subject matter, I would have ravished her right there; her smile was so appealing to me.

"He told me about some teenaged son of Dr. Cullen who got pulled over for speeding recklessly. I'm afraid he's not your biggest fan."

"The feeling is entirely mutual, I assure you. It's because of him that I have no car right now."

"Wait, wait, wait. It's _Charlie's fault_ that you were _speeding?_"

_No, dear girl, it is actually __**your**__ fault, but you wouldn't understand that, and I'm not ready to reveal the complexity of my perversion for you._

"No. Of course not. That was my fault--"

_Tires. Driveway. Chief Swan._

Wanting to avoid castration-by-protective-father-and-Police-Chief, I decided quickly that I could not be seen in his house with his daughter. Actually, I just didn't want to see him ever again, if possible.

I searched around in vain for an exit, and realized that I did not even have enough time to climb out of a first-story window when I heard his boots hit the gravel.

My demise flashed through my head and I know I grimaced--but then Bella, _my Bella_, saved me.

She let me into her room.

_Her bedroom, Edward! You were in Bella's bedroom!_

Up in my room, I threw myself onto my bed with another Bella-induced groan.

It had been a thrill to watch her paint, but it was nothing compared to being in her bedroom, with her, near her bed.

She was so cute when she picked up her clothes off the floor; I had pretended not to watch her.

Her paintings were stunning. The colors of the desert were so foreign to me, but I loved them because they were a part of her.

_What is she doing in Forks?_

I had frozen in place when Chief Swan heard my laughter from downstairs, but Bella promised to save me yet again.

In her absence, I cautiously moved about the room, taking in all of her personal effects.

I saw that her window was open, and right outside her room was a perfectly placed branch for my exit. I did not want to leave her, but I wasn't certain that I was safe from Chief Swan, so I carefully removed the screen and climbed out.

She was the sweetest thing that I had ever seen when she tried to get me to climb out of that tree. I know I had scared her, and for that, I was sorry. Surely, she knew that I would come back to her. My bravado was back in full swing as I climbed higher and higher into the tree.

_But Bella had been right about something._

That moss was damn slippery. I am usually so good at reading people, but I couldn't tell if she realized the peril of my situation when my fingertips latched on to the sill...

_On second thought, I am certain that she figured that part out. She's a smart one._

I had been so disappointed when she left. I thought I had blown my chance with her--again. Nevertheless, she forgave me. Something about this girl was so different from anyone I had ever encountered before.

_She is cautious, caring, and she owns her personality. She seems to know exactly whom she is and what makes her happy, and I love it. _

_And she is so talented._

_Not to mention those eyes... hair, hips, legs, breasts!_

I rolled over with a groan, and then grinned.

_I have her number._

I ended my reverie as felt my stomach growl for food. Suddenly starving, I cleaned myself up and followed the scent of delicious food downstairs, where I found the rest of the Cullen clan eagerly waiting for Esme to feed them.

Jasper caught my eye, grabbed my collar, and quickly pulled me into the dining room.

"Where've you been, man? And what the hell happened yesterday?"

"Jazz, chill out."

"No, dude, this isn't like you. What the hell is up? Were you really pulled over? That's not a big deal, so I don't know why you're all in a tizzy, but there's something going on with you; I can tell."

"Fine," I sighed. "I got pulled over by Chief Swan, and he was... nice... but..."

Jasper nodded in understanding.

"There's more you're not telling me, buddy boy."

"Yeah, okay... I, uh... I met a girl."

Jasper grinned evilly, and finally released my collar. "I knew it."

"What did you know?" said Alice, carrying a dish of food in from the kitchen.

I glared at Jasper, but the words began to fall out of his mouth despite my warning.

"Love, Edward... has met _someone_."

Alice squealed, and I kicked Jasper in the shin. Hard.

Suddenly Emmett was rounding the corner with a wicked smirk on his lips. "Did my ears deceive me? Has Eddie finally found himself a _friend_?"

"Ugh, Jazz, what the fuck have you done?"

"They'd figure it out, anyway," Jasper muttered.

"Yeah, but... this? I don't need this."

Emmett playfully poked me in the stomach. "Oh, don't be such a girl about it!" I watched as Rose glared at Emmett, and he corrected himself. "I mean wimp. Sorry."

_Wow. He is whipped._

I smirked, but I knew that I would be the same with Bella... if she ever gave me the chance.

Dinner with the family was hell. By the end of the meal, everyone, including Carlisle and Esme, was giving me speculative glances.

Alice firmly placed her glass on the table and locked her eyes on mine.

"Okay, Edward. Who is it? I can't figure it out, and it's driving me crazy!"

"Alice, not at the table, please."

_Thank you, Esme._

"Sorry. Edward, we're talking later, okay?"

I rolled my eyes.

_Like I have a choice_.

Just because Alice would be commandeering my time did not mean that I had to talk.

I heard a soft knock on my door and braced myself for Alice's interrogation as I opened it.

Esme stood with her hands clasped in front her, an apologetic smile on her face.

"Edward, dear, may I come in?"

I nodded and opened the door more widely.

She sat on my couch while I took the bed.

"I just want you to know how happy I am on your behalf. You need someone in your life, and despite your recent escapades, I trust your judgment. You are so very much like Carlisle in many ways, Edward, and I know that he feels the same as I do about you. We love you as if you were our own son, just as we love your brother and sister and have come to love Rosalie and Jasper since they came into our lives as well. Please know that whenever you are ready, we will welcome whomever you love into our family as our own."

Esme's eyes glittered with unshed tears, and she stood to leave.

I stood as well and walked her to my door. A ball of emotion caught in my throat, and I cleared it to speak. "Esme. Thank you. Thank you very much." I couldn't say more, but she nodded and smiled, and took me into her arms for a moment, her hug filling me with peace, hope, and forgiveness.

_How did I get to be so lucky?_

A moment later, another, louder knock sounded on my door.

"Come in, Alice."

I sat again on my bed, and watched as she began to gracefully pace back and forth across my room.

"So Edward... who is it?"

"Alice, I'm not telling you anything. Not this time."

"But, Edward! You tell me everything!" She looked a little hurt.

"Alice. Please. I need to keep this to myself for now. Can you... can you just try to understand and respect that?" I was so thankful that Esme had calmed my nerves before Alice arrived.

Alice stopped in front of me, and peered speculatively into my eyes.

After a moment, she sighed and cocked her head to the side, her mouth in a half-frown.

"Okay. I guess I'll wait. But... will you tell me one thing?"

"Maybe." I replied, not wanting to make any promises to my tenacious sister.

"Is it... is it a girl?"

My eyes bugged out of my head, and I fell back onto my bed as gales of laughter wracked my body.

"Yes," I breathed between laughs, "Yes, Alice, it's a girl."

Alice grinned at me, happy for me, and then she glanced to my door.

"God damn it!" A voice sounded from down the hallway.

Alice chortled, and then waved goodbye as she left, shouting down the hall, "You owe me fifty bucks, Emmett!"

If it had been any other day, I would have followed her there and wrestled them both to the ground.

For once, I didn't care. Emmett and Alice could mock me and make bets on my sexual orientation, and none of it would matter because I had Bella's number--just a stone's throw from having Bella, herself.

I thought of Bella as I watched the sunset paint the sky oranges and pinks through my bedroom window, and I wondered if she was watching the sunset as well.

_It is futile--I cannot remove her from my mind!_

I pressed my fingertips together and smiled deviously.

_Well then._

_It is officially time to plan the seduction._

_

* * *

_**A/N: **

**Oh, Edward, how I love you. **

**Please, please, please review! I really love the feedback. **


	6. Phone Call

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

**A/N: **SORRY that this took so LONG! My life sort of exploded, and I haven't had any time to write! Big thanks to inthestars for EVERYTHING, and thank you all for the reviews, messages, and the love.

As always, **Please Review!**

* * *

**Chapter 6**

Talking to my mother is often like trying to predict the weather: you might know what is coming, but you can never be entirely certain, even when supposedly an expert.

_And today, folks, we're going to have clear and sunny skies--oh, wait, no! It looks like Hurricane Renée is coming through!_

I make myself chuckle sometimes.

_Does the weather service ever make it to the letter 'r' during hurricane season? _

_Who thinks about this stuff, anyway?_

My random thoughts of hurricanes sent shivers down my spine. I'm not a big fan of mother nature when she goes all crazy-bitch "imma cut choo, foo," because, yeah--in Bella-land, mother nature is a vindictive street thug out for blood. Never trust her.

_My mind... it's a dangerous place, sometimes._

I had decided to grab a bite to eat and then get ready for bed before giving my mom a call. I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth, toothpaste messily dribbling out the corners of my mouth when vibrations from my phone buzzed through my pocket. Chilling ripples tingled across my scalp and my face flushed as I thought of _who_ might possibly be calling _me._

_Edward?_

I awkwardly pulled my phone out as I spat my toothpaste into the sink. Glancing at the screen, I was disappointed to see "Renée Cell," but I flipped it open and answered.

"Hey there, mom."

"Hey, honey!"

"You know, it's really funny, I was going to call you in a little bit."

"Well isn't that something. I hadn't planned on calling, but about a half hour or so ago, I suddenly got a really strong urge to talk to you! Not that I don't always want to talk to you, sweetie, but this was as if someone were saying to me 'Renée! Call your daughter!' Isn't that the weirdest thing?"

I laughed, marveling at my mom's uncanny perception.

"Heh. Yeah, mom, you're positively paranormal!"

"Haha! Don't say that too loud; Charlie will make fun of me."

"Aw, don't worry about him. He's been out cold since early evening. I think he got up really early this morning... I rarely see him."

Renée sighed. "No surprise there. He always was an 'early to bed, early to rise' kind of guy. So, why was it that you were going to call me?"

"Oh, well..." I paused tentatively, unsure of how to word my predicament. "Some... things have been happening lately, and I guess I just wanted your advice. I don't really have any friends around here yet... well, there's Jake, but somehow I don't think he'd want to hear about this."

"Who is this 'Jake'?"

"Um, he's Billy Black's son, you know, from La Push?"

"Oh! Sarah's boy!"

"Um... I guess? I've never met his mom."

"Well, she died a long time ago, in a car accident."

"Oh jeez, that's horrible! I had no idea."

"It was right after we left Forks, actually. I was never good friends with her, but we knew each other through Billy and Charlie. She was such a sweet woman, and so proud of her son."

"That's so awful!"

"I know--Charlie told me that it was really hard on the girls, not to mention Billy. I don't know how he would have gotten through that without your dad's friendship."

There would always be a part of my mother that loved my father; it was apparent in her occasional praise of his strength of character and the admiring tone with which she spoke of Charlie's loyalty. I had spent so many years listening to my mom talk about my dad. Sometimes her irritation was predominant, but others times, I saw the woman who had fallen for him. Charlie, on the other hand, was always himself. He spoke no ill of Renée, despite the heartache she had caused. I sometimes wondered if he'd ever remarry, or if Renée still owned too much of his heart.

"So. Back to why you called me. It's not about Jake, is it? Are you two...?" My mom hummed a little suggestive noise, and I shuddered at the thought.

"Mom! No! Not Jake, no. And I didn't call you, remember?"

"Details, Bella! Hmmm... but there is someone, right?"

Heat raced under my skin as I thought of Edward again.

"Well... sort of?"

"Sort of? So I'm guessing you've seen him, but he doesn't know you exist?"

"Ah, well no, not exactly. Is that even possible in such a small town? We kind of met... and then he sort of... came over?" I was still uncertain as to what had exactly occurred this afternoon. The only thing that I could be sure of was the abnormality of the situation... and how fantastic his skin had felt against mine, and how exhilarated I felt in his presence.

"Bella, honey, I'm confused. You haven't met him, but you have, and he visited you at Charlie's?"

I laughed at the absurdity.

"Well, no, we kind of met in town. We didn't talk or anything, I just--" _gazed upon him, awestruck? Wanted to rake my hands through his hair? Wanted to roughly wrap my legs around him and weld myself to him for eternity? No, that would not go over well._ "Let's just leave it at 'we met briefly' and then he showed up here, and was watching me paint from a tree."

I relived each moment as I explained it to my mother, leaving out the details of skin touching skin and the fire that arced between us. I worried errant bits of string from my blanket, and bit my lip whenever I paused at her exclamations. Talking to Renée, the fog that had surrounded me since I had met Edward lifted, and I was finally able to think clearly and rationally.

"A tree, Bella? He was watching you?" Renée's voice rose in pitch with her anxiety. "I don't li--"

"Wait, wait, wait! I know it's pretty weird. But, mom, I like him. The thing is, I don't know him. I don't know anything about him except for his name."

_And the fact that he likes to climb trees._

Renée hummed thoughtfully. "Bella. Of course you don't know him, you've just met him. People take years to get to know, and even then.... But, sweetie, to be honest, I don't like the fact that he was watching you. You really don't need any more of that."

I shuddered at my mom's reference to James, irritated that he still influenced my life after all this time. I wanted to be rid of him and to purge his effect. He was in Phoenix, and I was hundreds of miles away in Forks, yet he may as well be next door again, watching me through his window. Calling me in the middle of the night. Following me to school. Memorizing my schedule, and taking all the same classes. I thought he was cute before I knew him. But by then, he had become obsessed with me, and it was just too late. _I didn't know. I didn't know! How could I have known?_ My mind spiraled down into bleakness as I blamed myself for all of the pain, paranoia, and terror that _wasn't my fault, _I tried to remind myself.

"I attract them, right? The attractive weirdos. I'm a veritable weirdo-magnet." I was trying to be funny, but there was a sobbing note of desolation in my voice that I hadn't intended for my mother to hear.

"Bella, honey, it's okay," my mom soothed. "You're not--it's not your fault, really! There are just a lot of oddballs out there, you know?"

"Yeah," I replied quietly. _That's one word for them. _

"I know you don't really need my advice... you've always been so smart about things. But... I want you to be careful with this boy, Bella. Really careful. Get to know him, but do it slowly. No rushing, you understand me? I'm not there to kick his butt for you," She ended with a laugh, though I knew she was telling the truth. Without her help, where would I be today?

Lifted from morose thoughts, I grinned and chuckled along, and finally relaxed a fraction as I breathed in her advice.

I didn't want to group James and Edward together--they couldn't _possibly_ be the same. Edward seemed a little weird, but benign, whereas James had always made me feel--uncomfortable wasn't a good enough word. He was alternately sweet and sinister, and I couldn't for the life of me make sense of his moods. He was hot one minute and cold the next. I had tried my best to avoid him, but he had persisted relentlessly. I could still hear his voice in my head, chastising and belittling me, and then trying to make up for it with kind words--words that I had naively and foolishly believed, and in so doing, signed my death sentence. I had tried so hard to block the memories that had haunted me for the past year. My art brought me peace and answers--and I had finally figured him out. He was just crazy. Genuinely crazy. I didn't know enough about mental illness to diagnose him, but I had finally figured out that something wasn't quite right--too little, too late.

_James is far, far away, for once. Forks is safe. Boring... but safe._

"It's okay, mom. I'm sure Charlie is up for any ass-kicking in the name of daughter-protection."

_He's probably a little too eager, actually._

"I'm sure he is. By the way, Bella, does this tree-climbing-boy of yours have a name?"

I inhaled a large breath, willing away the sweet tension that came as I prepared to speak.

"His name is Edward. Edward Cullen. And he's not mine." _Yet._

Somewhere, a choir of angels sighed as his countenance lit into the sky with my words.

Despite the nasty things I thought about Mother Nature, she was being remarkably kind to the good people of Forks this week. I awoke to another day of sunshine, and I let myself bask in a patch light until my stomach rumbled for food. Feeling inspired and energized, I set out to cook breakfast.

Days of the week hardly mattered over the summer, and I had lost track of them quickly in the monotony of Forks. Apparently, it was Saturday, because Charlie's fishing gear was gone from its home by the door. I set out to for another day of painting, easel and kit in hand, and I marveled at the parallels between my father and myself--he with his tackle box and fishing rod, me with my art box and easel. Quite the solitary pair.

My phone was my constant companion today. I tried to pretend that I wasn't waiting for it to ring. That I wasn't waiting like a silly girl for Edward's phone call. I tried not to glare at my silent phone. I failed.

_What is that stupid rule about the number of days a person has to wait before calling? I have no idea what these people who made this crap up were thinking, but they deserve to die a painful death. A gentleman should know better than to keep a lady waiting._

_But who am I fooling? _

_Edward may be a gentleman, but I know so little about him to be sure of anything. And a lady? I am no lady. I am an artist._

The colors and shapes that had come so easily yesterday felt stilted and wrong this morning. I was preoccupied with the presence of my phone, and I found myself turning to look for Edward in the maple so often that I finally moved my easel for better tree-viewing. I was both anxious to hear from or see him, but I simultaneously didn't want him to do anything that would make my mother worry or constitute a felony to my father, McGruff the Crime Dog.

My thoughts tangled darkly into the web that I encountered last night. I didn't want Edward to be like James, but so far, he hadn't proven himself to be all that sane. I tried to remember Renée's advice of 'taking it slow' and 'getting to know him,' but I wanted to know him _now_. I wanted the reassurance that he was _different_. I wanted him to be a nice guy... someone whom I could trust. I had never had that before, and I desperately wanted to find it in Edward. Granted, I wanted much more than that--the desire that coiled within me at the thought of him was just a fraction of how it felt to be near him. _And to touch him. _I wanted his lips. I wanted to lay him down in the wet grass and pretend that I knew what I was doing.

Before Edward, I had not known what _sexy_ felt like. With him, I was undeniably female, empowered to embark on a femme fatalesque journey of seduction. Like Eve, Lilith, Salome, Circe, Cleopatra, and all the rouged and readied sirens of old before me, I suddenly knew my power, and _oh_, how I _wanted _to wield it.

I realized belatedly that I had been staring into the tree, my brush limp at my side for several minutes. I wanted to focus on my canvas, but my thoughts had ensnared my muse and held her captive. Instead of raising brush to paint and bristle to canvas, I slumped into a lump on the damp ground and flipped open my phone, willing it to ring.

_One..._

_Two... _

_Three..._

_Aaaand... _nothing.

I wondered what Edward was doing, and whether he would ever call. As I mused, I absentmindedly scrolled through my settings and the few contacts listed.

_Black House. _Jacob had insisted.

_Charlie--cell._ I wasn't sure if he ever charged this phone, let alone answered it.

_Charlie--home. _This ramshackle town was far from being _my_ home, but it was okay.

_Charlie--work. _ Another number I generally tried not to call.

_Edward Cullen._

That coil in my stomach tightened considerably as I sat staring at the name.

_How? When? What the fuck?_

I certainly hadn't added this number. I had no idea where it had come from, and the only answer that I could conjure was that he had slipped it in when I wasn't looking. But when the _hell_ was that?

There must have been something wrong with me, because I was positively _elated_ to see that name--I hadn't even begun to imagine dialing the number behind it.

I had been so sure that the ball was in his court. That I had given him the role, and that he would follow. But what if this meant that he really wanted _me_ to call _him_?

_And why does this have to be so complicated?_ I laid my head in my hand, wishing that courtly love were still in vogue with its clear rules to follow, rather than this mumbo-jumbo egalitarian crap.

With that frustrated thought, a jaunty tune sounded from beside me, my phone having long since been dropped into the grass. The noise was insistent in my ears, and it made my stomach roil and flip as I grabbed for its source.

_Black House._

_What the fuck! Jacob, you're sweet, but, ugh! NOT who I want to hear from today!_

I sighed, siphoned a breath past my throat, and resigned myself to talk to him.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Bella! It's Jake!"

"Hey there--yeah, I saw on my phone that you were calling."

"And you still picked up? I'm impressed!"

"Hehe--well, don't let it go to your head, okay?"

_He's hardly Edward, but at the very least good for a laugh!_

"So Bella... the sun is up, the rain is gone for the day... I was thinking that today would be an _awesome_ day to scope out some tide pools down on First Beach--if you're available, of course."

I had really wanted to get more painting done. But really? It didn't look like it was going to happen today, beach or no beach. _What the hell, he'll take my mind off Edward, right?_

"You know, that sounds perfect."

We made plans to meet at his house in an hour, which apparently gave me enough time to clean up, get ready, drive there, get lost on the only road to La Push, call him for better directions, and arrive around low tide.

Jake led me along a rocky path and when the hill we were climbing crested, the crescent-shaped beach stretched out before us, low-tide waves small and calm. The sea-salt air resurrected long-lost and fragmented memories of my earliest days--of family walks along the beach and swinging between my two parents from dangling arms. It was so distant that I felt nothing; it may as well have been something I imagined.

"Have you been here before?"

"You know, huh, I don't actually remember--though I suspect I have."

"Well, what do you think?"

The beach was... messy. There were bits, pieces, and huge chunks of marooned wood all along the sand. Dinosaur remnants of old logging harvests lay along the shore, their weathered branches reaching out from the earth in a silent, unheard plea before succumbing to the ground, swallowed whole. The foamy waves lapped along cliff edges, and a few shorebirds ran across the pebbly, sandy beach. The yellow sun was high and the gray-blue water was low.

"It's beautiful!"

Jake grinned at my approval of his beach, and we continued down to the water's edge.

We splashed our feet in the cool foam before heading to an outcropping of boulders that Jake assured me would contain a multitude of critters.

"Really Bella, there's crabs, and sea stars, and anemones--there's lots of stuff living in the rocks."

"_In_ the rocks?" I joked as we made our way across the beach.

Jake rolled his eyes. "Well, okay, between them. And if you're going to be picky, then they don't always live there, either."

"And you know this... how?" I said asked with a smirk.

"Bella, Bella, Bella," he chided jokingly. "I've lived on the water my entire life, not to mention that my father's lived on the water, my father's father, and his father, going all the way back to the flood, and even before then, too."

I gave a what I knew to be a confused look. "The flood?"

"Well, in Quileute history, there was an ancient flood that washed away our relatives. The story tells us that the Quileutes survived the flood by lashing canoes in the tops of trees. Pretty smart, huh?"

I tried to imagine living in a canoe in a tree, and grimaced at the thought. I'm not a big fan of heights. Of course I couldn't help but start thinking about Edward climbing trees again, either.

_What is it with men and trees, anyway?_

_And when is he going to call? Will he call? Did I imagine all of that yesterday? It couldn't have been real, right? What if he doesn't call? He obviously put his number in--does that mean I should call him?_

"Hey! Bella! Yah in there?" Jake was suddenly in my face, smirking at my furrowed brow. He snapped me out of my foolish circular thoughts, and I blushed, which made me look incredibly guilty, I was sure.

"Whoah. What are you _thinking _about? You look like--"

"So I take this flood was a while ago?" I interrupted.

He raised an eyebrow at me, but was merciful. "Yeah. We don't know when, exactly. Quileutes have been here for something like eight or nine thousand years or so.

"Wow!" That's--that's so cool!"

"Really?"

"Yeah! I mean--I know so little about my heritage, and you're still living yours. I think it's awesome that you really know who you are."

Jacob looked serious for a moment before responding. "Knowing your heritage and knowing yourself are two very different things, Bella."

"I--well, of course they are. Let me try again. You have a real connection to your _people_, and to this land. What do I have? I know that the Swans emigrated from Scotland in the late 1600s. But I don't know what it means be or feel Scottish. I'm just... Bella. Just me. And sometimes I wish I had more than that. Does that make more sense?"

Jake nodded at me. "Yeah, I get it. I don't have the same problem, I guess. I've always known--and considering that my dad is an elder, I've been hearing the stories and the language for as long as I can remember. But you know, Bella... in some ways, I think you're lucky. I have... we have... ugh, I don't know how to say this. Okay. So you know how I know all this stuff about my people?" I nodded. "Well, we've lost touch with a lot of our history and culture. The Tribal Council is doing things to try to bring it back, like teaching Quileute language in school, but... it's not as real as it could be. What the word? Not fake, but like it."

"Artificial?"

"Yeah! Jeez, I can't even remember English, let alone Quileute," Jake joked.

Jake bent over a tide pool, watched carefully, and then expertly scooped up a little red crab and held it out in front of me.

"So, yeah, we've lost a lot of our culture. My dad says that part of the reason was because we ran into Europeans pretty early on, and then there was the fire back in the late 1800s. Everyone lost everything--all of our artifacts are gone. But the biggest reason, I think, was the missionaries that came to _save the heathens_."

I watched Jacob as he spoke, still completely surprised by the serious turn that this conversation had taken. I saw anger in his eyes, and I didn't like to see it on his normally sunny face.

"Does 'Black' sound very Quileute to you?" He continued.

I shook my head, afraid to say anything.

"_SHAY-puh_."

"What?"

"_SHAY-puh. _S-h-í-p-a_."_

It slowly dawned on me. "Oh! Black!"

Jake grinned, the little crab in his hand flailed its segmented legs in the air, and the tense moment broke.

"See Bella, I've got to figure out my heritage too. It's not exactly the same, but--"

"Similar boat. Yeah, I get it."

"Yeah," Jake said as he returned the unhappy arthropod to the pool of glassy water.

We spent the rest of the afternoon playing with the unsuspecting animals on the beach, and Jake taught me a whole bunch of Quileute words and phrases. By four o'clock, I had learned that Jake had always wanted a furry, barking _Ka-DAY-do _(Kadí-do), and that there actually exists a word meaning, 'those are the people who think that I am the one who is going to Forks' (kitlayakwokwilkwolasstaxasalas). We had seen bright purple sea stars, green and orange sea urchins, mole crabs, and lots of kelp. It had been surprisingly fun, and I hadn't been thinking Edward, or trees, or his hands, eyes, or smile, until my phone _rang_.

We had been heading back toward his house, when I heard it coming from my pocket. Normally a cell phone ringing isn't a big deal, but today? It was monumental. Jake eyed my ringing pocket as I instantly tallied off who it could or couldn't be.

_Not Jake, obviously._

_Mom? Unlikely._

_Charlie? Even less likely._

My list was sadly rather short, but as I reached the end, I the knot in my stomach threatened to take over my entire body.

"So, Bella. I noticed that your pocket is ringing, and you look like you're going to be sick. Are you going to answer it?"

I tried breathing, but it wasn't working. "Uh, yeah, maybe... well, no, that's rude. I don't want to do that to you." I hedged.

"Avoiding someone, are we?" Jake smirked, and I saw when an idea lit up his face. "How about I answer for you?"

"No, no, NO!" I sputtered, but Jake had already invaded my space and grabbed the slim phone with his fingers held like pincers in my pocket. The ridiculousness of my anxiety quickly overwhelmed me, and I began laughing hysterically with Jake while I ineffectively tried to retrieve my phone.

I suddenly realized that I was laughing alone, and Jake was holding my phone at an arms distance from himself, his face a mask of rage and disgust.

"_Edward Cullen?_" He spat out in a violent whisper. "Why the FUCK is a_ Cullen_ calling you?"

My anger quickly matched his, and I grabbed my phone from him. "None of your business!"

I was fuming. I clenched my hand tightly around my little phone and ground my teeth together.

_What right does he have? None! Invasion of privacy, invasion of space, UGH!_

I glanced up at him, and was surprised to see defeat and sadness in his posture and on his face. I didn't understand what had just happened, nor his rapidly changing emotions.

"You're right," Jake said through gritted teeth. "I'm sorry. It's your phone, your call, your life. Is he a friend?"

"Yeah, Jake, he's a friend."

He eyed me speculatively.

"Is he more than a friend?"

I felt my face flush, and that was enough of an answer. I didn't say anything.

"Ugh, Bella!" Jake threw his hands into the air in frustration. "I _thought_ you said that you didn't want anyone or anything right now."

"Jake," I whined. "I... that was before I met him. I'm sorry."

I was still pretty confused by the reaction that I witnessed to a simple phone call from--what did he say? '_A Cullen_.'

"Jake, wait a second, here. Don't be blaming me for something when there isn't anything, okay? We talked, I gave him my number, and he entered his into my phone? I like him."

Jake snorted.

"Could you _please_ tell me what the hell all that was about, now that I've explained myself to you, even though I shouldn't have needed to?"

I couldn't tell if he was angry or sad or pissed off, and I certainly had no idea at what any of this unexpected outburst of emotion was directed.

Finally, Jake sighed. "Bella, listen. My family... the Cullens... I guess you could say that we don't really get along. It's some old stuff that I can't really get into. I'm sorry for that... and I'm sorry for flipping out on you. You, of all people, don't deserve it." He smiled at me warmly.

"Thanks, Jake... though you really didn't answer anything."

"I can't."

"You can't, or you can't-can't?"

"Bella, I really am not supposed to say anything. I'm sorry. Can we just leave it there? I guess you could say that there's a bit of bad blood between our families; I'm not allowed--"

"No, we can't leave it there, Jacob Black. I _will_ get to the bottom of this."

"Fine. I don't blame you, really. But Bella? You're not going to like what you find, whenever you do."

"About you? About them? What am I not going to like? Jake, you can't leave me hanging like this!"

He shook his head back and forth, and looked pained when he turned to me. "I can't! I already told you. I can't say anything. There's an agreement. I'm not allowed to talk about it, okay?"

"Yeah. Okay."

As soon as I got into my truck to head home, I checked my voice mail. _One new message from Edward Cullen._

"Hey Bella, this is Edward Cullen calling. Remember, the guy in your tree? Well, I was wondering if you want to do something tomorrow. Give me a call back and let me know. Okay. Talk to you then. Bye."

_Standard message, right? So why is my heart racing?_

I waited until I got home and had a glass of water to ease my dry mouth before attempting to return his call.

Up in my room, I flopped on my bed and stared at my phone again.

_I'm going to be sick. Think positive thoughts. Positive thoughts._

I took a few minutes to breathe and collect myself before pressing the button to call "Edward Cullen." When I finally did, I was sent to voice mail, and I left a standard message to match his.

"Hey, it's Bella Swan, calling you back. Um, yeah, I'd love to do something... what did you have in mind? Call me back."

I left the message all in one breath, and I gasped for air as soon as I flipped my phone shut.

_So nervous. So ridiculous!_

Not five minutes later did my phone ring again, and the caller ID read, "Edward Cullen."

This time, I got it.

"Hello?" I forced out.

"Hi, this is Edward."

_Oh God, Oh God. What do I say? I forget what to say! Never mind that! I don't remember how to talk!_

"Oh, um, hi!" I croaked.

_Breathe normally, Bella._

"Yeah, so, you got my message?"

_Oh God, he's talking!_

"Uh, Yeah. You got mine?"

"Yeah."

_Okay, I can do this..._

"Okay, so... you want to do something tomorrow?"

_Yes! Yes! Yes! Anything!_

"Yes, definitely!" I cringed at how overzealous I sounded. I couldn't help it. The boy was asking me out.

_Ugh, I'm such an ass._

"Great! So, I was thinking of maybe taking a trip to Port Angeles. We could have lunch and check out the shops. There's a nice art store there that you might like."

_Wait, what?_

"You mean... art supplies?"

_Paint, brushes, canvas, Gesso, Edward._

"Precisely. So what do you think?"

I laughed at that. _I think... I might love you._

"Here's what I think: when can we go? And are you really offering to take an artist to an art supply store? Do you have any idea how long I could spend there?"

"Oh, I do," he replied assuredly. "I'm counting on it. I'll pick you up at ten?"

_I cannot wait to see your face again._

"Yes, perfect, great!"

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow."

_Goodbye? So soon?_

"Okay! Bye!"

My mind went blank for several minutes. I think I was in shock. I sat on my bed, thinking of nothing, just breathing, and it slowly dawned on me: _I have a date. With Edward Cullen. In Port Angeles. At an art store._

The combination was nearly enough to make me salivate, but instead, I fell back into my pillows with girlish giggles and squeals, and let my excited euphoria carry me for the rest of the night.

* * *

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